


No Longer Playing

by bluecurls



Series: No Longer Playing [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dom Remus Lupin, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fred Lives, Hermione is kind of subby, Light BDSM, Multi, Previously posted on Granger Enchanted, Remus Lupin Lives, Shameless Smut, Sirius Black Lives, Some Humor, Some Plot, Sort of Dom Sirius Black, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:56:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 62,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8506921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecurls/pseuds/bluecurls
Summary: Hermione Granger had a crush on Sirius Black and Remus Lupin when she was a girl, but she's an adult now. She knows what she wants: Sirius and Remus, any way she can get them.That's fine with the wizards, only they're not playing around.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> When my computer died, I thought this story was gone forever. Shaya Lonnie came to my rescue and as a thank you, I will finish No Longer Playing. 
> 
> It needs to go through some major rewrites, so please be patient during the process.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's childish."

"So?"

"It's juvenile."

Sirius Black shrugged. He'd been called worse.

"It's bloody infantile!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Remus Lupin sat back in the rickety wooden chair on a groan of frustration. No, he didn't have a better idea. If he had a better idea, he'd be doing that right now instead of trying to talk his best friend out of his latest scheme. Arm wrestling! Over a witch! What the hell was he thinking? They weren't fifth years anymore. "We're 42 years old, Padfoot."

"I'm well aware of our age, Moony."

"And you don't think we're too old?"

Sirius leaned forward in his chair, gray eyes shrewd. "Scared, Moony?"

He snorted. "Really? You're going to try to goad me into doing this?" That may have worked when they were students, but like he’d been saying for the past 30 minutes, they were grown men.

"I'm simply pointing out that I’m not going to let a number dictate my actions, but don't let me stop you from settling into old age. In fact, I'll make you a cup of tea and grab a blanket to keep you warm before going upstairs to talk Hermione into a different sort of nighttime activity."

Green eyes flashed amber before Remus' elbow hit the table with a loud thud. "Count of three?"

Sirius smirked. This was too easy. He gripped his friend's hand. "One."

"Two."

"Three!"

* * *

 

Hermione Granger studied her reflection, wishing she hadn't insisted that Sirius remove the enchanted mirror from her bedroom. She hated the mirror's comments on her wardrobe, her makeup, and especially her hair, but she did appreciate the honest, albeit brutal, feedback it provided when she tried something new.

The dress was definitely new.

Tight didn't begin to describe it. The red leather hugged her curves like nothing she'd ever worn before. The dress was strapless with a sweetheart neckline that dipped dangerously low in the back. Pansy had whistled loudly when Hermione stepped out of the dressing room, the witch's lack of tact working in her favor as she refused to let Hermione leave the store without it.

"You said it yourself; enough is enough," Pansy pointed out.

Hermione stared at reflection, trying to imagine their reaction. "I know."

She had lived at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place for nearly four years, taking residence after returning to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the fall term to take her NEWTs. It was supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but she enjoyed living with Remus and Sirius more than she expected. They were nice and polite, giving Hermione the space she needed to live her life in a manner she’d not been able to enjoy before. The three of them were ideal housemates, friendly enough to not be annoyed by each other's idiosyncrasies and habits, yet not so close that they felt obligated to comment on each other's lifestyles. Hermione loved the freedom. Neither man cared who she went out with or how late she stayed out, or if she came home at all. Likewise, she didn't judge them for the witches they dated, many who rarely lasted more than a night – not that the residents of Grimmauld Place were constantly living the high life. For every night the trio was living it up, there were several you'd find them at home, reading, reminiscing; simply enjoying the peace each one deserved after years of fighting.

She couldn't pinpoint when she started looking at Remus and Sirius differently. Yes, she had secretly harbored crushes on both wizards in her youth, but she was an adult. She knew the difference between a crush and well, lust, if she was being completely honest – not that her friends blamed her. Both men were utterly gorgeous. Sirius, with his dark looks and devil-may-care attitude, was the classic bad boy all girls wanted, but knowing that an actual beast lurked within mild-mannered Remus … Hermione didn't know who she wanted more. She was attracted to both. Each had certain traits that drew her to him. She couldn't choose.

"Why should you?" Ginny asked.

"What?" Hermione couldn't believe what her friend was suggesting.

"Come on; it's not so uncommon among witches and wizards! We all know Fred and George share. Are you honestly telling me that two men as close as Remus and Sirius haven't?"

The image Ginny painted had its merits. Unfortunately, months of hints had accomplished nothing. Innuendos were wasted on a man like Sirius; suggestive language was second nature to him. Meanwhile, Remus would never allow himself to look beyond wordplay for something more. Short of stripping naked in the middle of dinner, she had no idea how to let them know she was not only interested, but willing to do anything their devious minds came up with.

"What's wrong with that plan?" Pansy asked during a night of too much drinking.

"Nothing if I was sure that they wanted me," Hermione lamented. She liked where she lived. She didn't want to move if she didn't have to and a strip tease that led to a stammering apology from her housemates – Remus, most likely – would be a definite reason to move. Far away. Forever. No, she would need to be "subtlety skanky," according to Ginny. This meant dressing to kill and gauging their reaction. If one of them was interested, she’d make her move. If not … well, maybe she'd take Fred and George up on their offer.

Hermione slid her feet into three-inch black stilettos, picked up her purse and left her room.

* * *

 

Sirius forgot how strong Remus was.

He blamed the other man’s physique; it was deceiving. Tall and lean, his muscles weren't as obvious as Sirius' build, a fact he had forgotten when he proposed arm wrestling as a way to determine which man got to make a move on Hermione first. Sirius kept his eyes locked on Remus, refusing to show the strain he was feeling as they gripped hands, forearms tense as they fought to dominate the other. He wasn't going to lose. He couldn't. He'd wanted that little witch for too long. He couldn't get her out of his head, out of his dreams, nor did he want to. She was beautiful, smart and could be so utterly wicked when pushed far enough. He needed to get her in his bed and see how far that was.

Remus was impressed. The last time he arm wrestled with Sirius, the Animagus had barely lasted one minute. He had been drunk at the time and the full moon only a few days away, so there were factors in Remus' favor, but apparently Padfoot remembered his defeat and was determined that history not repeat itself. Unfortunately, the stakes were higher this time around. Remus couldn't continue to smell Hermione and not take her. The wolf inside him was screaming, begging, dying to take a bite out of the little witch. He didn't know how much longer he could control his instincts. He wanted her more than he wanted his next breath. He wanted to bury himself in her wet heat and never come out. He needed her nails on his back, his fingers gripping her hips, as he moved harder, deeper.

Both men were so intent on the other, they missed Hermione's entrance, only looking over when she said hello.

"Holy fuck!"

Sirius barely felt Remus slam his arm against the table as he stared at the vision in the doorway. She was every man's fantasy, a wet dream come to life in tight red leather and black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was loose, the riot of curls streaming down her back. His fingers itched to wrap themselves in them.

"That's one reaction," Hermione blushed before glancing at Remus, celebrating internally when she saw him eyeing her hungrily.

"Where are you going dressed like that?" he asked in a low voice.

"Out with the girls." She kept her voice breezy as she walked past the table to get a glass of water. She reached for a glass on the highest shelf, knowing the hem of her dress would rise several inches as she did so. She couldn't identify which man groaned, but she would put her money on the werewolf. She turned, leaning against the counter and eyeing both wizards as she slowly sipped her water. Licking her lips, she set the empty glass in the sink.

"And what do the girls have planned tonight?" Sirius' voice was husky, as if it hurt to push the words out of his throat. She looked … He didn't have the words. In all of his fantasies, and he had a lot where Hermione Granger was concerned, she never looked like the vision she was right now.

"You guess is as good as mine," she replied in a singsong voice, leaning down to kiss Remus on the cheek before repeating the gesture with Sirius. "Be good, boys!"

Before either man could think to stop her, she was gone, the click of the front door echoing throughout the house a moment later.

"I won," Remus said quietly.

"She distracted me." Sirius' voice was hard.

"Go again?"

Sirius waved his hand. A bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses floated to the table in response. He poured a glass for himself and Remus. "Let me ask you a question, Moony. How bad do you want her?"

He studied the dark liquid. It was the same color as Hermione's eyes. "It crossed the line from want to need months ago."

Sirius nodded. It was the same for him. "So perhaps instead of trying to figure out which one of us gets to make a move first, we focus on what we need to do to keep her."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "The three of us?"

"It's not like we haven't shared before."

"There's a difference between one night and forever." Remus swallowed his firewhiskey, the burn doing nothing to distract him from the memory of Hermione in that dress. "Hermione is a forever girl."

"I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't mean it. I want her. If I have to share her with you to get her, to keep her, I will."

"What about what she wants?"

His smile was dangerous. "That, Moony, is what we'll find out when she gets home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you Shaya for having my back!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heavy editing of this story will start soon. I have another project to finish first, but I'm Ok with Chapter 2, so I've decided to post it.

Pansy was cheering before she even opened the front door. Hermione could hear the witch's excited yell from the apparition point across the street from the three-bedroom house she shared with her husband Ron.

"You did it," she squealed before grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her inside the house, not letting go until they were in the living room. She flounced on to the couch and tucked her long legs underneath her, getting comfortable for what she loved to call “The dirty details,” emphasis on the word dirty. Pansy looked up at Hermione with a wicked gleam in her brown eyes. "I can't believe you did it!"

"You told me to!" Hermione joined her friend on the couch, though the dress made it difficult for her to find a comfortable position. She scooted to the edge of the sofa, balancing on the end as she faced Pansy.

"I tell you to do a lot of things. You rarely listen to me."

"Well," Hermione hedged. "I had a vested interest in this idea."

Pansy snorted. "I'll say. So, what happened? Who broke first? Was it Sirius? I bet it was Sirius. He looks like the kind of guy who’d have a leather fetish. Wait – no! I choose Remus. You'd think he'd be all about the sexy librarian look, but I bet our professor likes the idea of a wild girl. When's the next full moon? Is it soon?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Damn. Maybe you should have waited. I would love to see his reaction when the wolf is close to the surface."

Hermione shivered at the thought, her eyes going dark as she tried to imagine that scenario. Pansy shook her head, used to Hermione’s daydreaming look after months of listening to the witch gush about her wizards. "So," she interrupted before things went too far, "tell me which one you snagged."

Hermione’s cheeks pinked. "I don't know," she admitted. "They were busy when I walked into the kitchen. Sirius saw me first, but I'm pretty sure Remus growled."

Pansy sighed dreamily. That was hot. "Go on; what happened next?"

"I kissed them good bye and came here."

" _You kissed them?!_ "

"On their cheeks," Hermione clarified.

Disappointment did not begin to describe what Pansy was feeling. How could someone so smart be so incredibly stupid? "Hermione, you were supposed to find out which one wanted you."

Hermione shifted on the sofa. Her dress was sticking to her thighs. "I’m aware of the plan."

"So what happened?"

She fiddled with the silver ring she wore on the index finger of her right hand, not wanting to look her friend in the eye. "I don't want to know which one wants me. _If_ they want me."

"Excuse me?"

Heat flooded her cheeks. "I want both of them," she whispered.

“Duh,” Pansy replied. “That’s why you’re dressed like that. To see which one wants you.”

Hermione shook her head. She was going to have to say out loud the secret she’d been keeping for months. “I want _both_ of them,” she repeated.

Pansy’s eyes widened. "Come again?"

Hermione looked up. She could do this. If she was going to pursue two wizards, she needed to get used to the questions and speculations, beginning with those closest to her. "I don't want to have to choose," she confessed. "I want Remus _and_ Sirius."

Pansy sat back, shocked and yet not. She knew Hermione claimed what she felt for her housemates was lust caused by abstaining from sex longer than she cared to admit, but this admission went beyond lust. She didn't sound like someone who was looking for a simple shag. Maybe they'd been going about this all wrong.

"Forget it," Hermione got to her feet and started digging through her small purse, pulling out a pair of jeans, followed by a burgundy shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing. We're going to watch a movie, right?"

Pansy shook her head. They were going to watch a movie, but that was after she thought Hermione would arrive with tales of a drooling wizard or two. That didn't happen, so it was time for plan B: alcohol. "That dress is too good to waste on me." She jumped up from the couch. "Floo the girls while I go change. Tell them we're meeting at Draco's club in 30 minutes."

"Pansy, I can't deal -"

"Thirty minutes!"

* * *

 

Technically, it was closer to 45 minutes by the time the four of them – Hermione, Pansy, Luna and Ginny – took a seat in the private VIP section of the club, but after finishing her second strawberry mojito, Hermione no longer cared. Nodding when the waitress asked if they needed anything else, Hermione held up her empty glass.

"Granger's drinking; alert the _Prophet_ ," Draco Malfoy smirked as he stepped into the room, kissing both Ginny and Pansy on the cheek before hugging Luna. Keeping an arm around the petite blond, he whistled as he got his first real glimpse of the getup his childhood nemesis was wearing. "Damn, Granger, where have you been hiding that body?"

"Please," she smiled gratefully at the waitress who handed her a third mojito. "I know you tried to get Marcus to give up the details of our vacation to Rio."

"You spent a whole week with the guy and all he tells me is 'We had fun,'" Draco grumbled, still pissed at his friend for refusing to elaborate. Then again, no one would ever call Marcus Flint chatty.

Hermione smiled, remembering how vocal the normally stoic wizard could be during sex. They'd spent almost four months together, most of it in bed, before his Quidditch schedule and her healer training took its toll on their floundering relationship.

"So what brings you here tonight, ladies?"

"Men suck," Ginny announced cheerfully as she threw back a brightly-colored shot.

"Problems with Potter?"

"Absolutely none." Ginny studied the remaining shots on the table before choosing the purple-tinted one. It was the same color purple as the streaks of color in Luna's white blond hair. Wishing she could get away with something like that, Ginny took the shot, shivering as the liquid slid down her throat.

"I assume you and Weasley are as disgustingly happy as always." Draco sneered at Pansy. She fluttered her eyelashes in response. Leaning down to kiss Luna, he murmured, "I know you have zero complaints.”

“Not a one,” Luna replied.

"That leaves you, Granger. Spill it."

She snorted. One of her best friends may be married to Pansy Parkinson and she may have slept with a Slytherin or two, and perhaps she was the one who set Draco and Luna up in the first place, but that did not mean she was going to bare her soul to him.

"Come on. You're wearing ‘Fuck Me’ heels with a dress that screams sex and sucking down alcohol like it's the end of the world, so you're either nursing a broken heart and looking to get lucky, or you are on the prowl for a specific wizard, biding time until you see him."

Pansy raised her own drink to Draco. "You're good."

"I know. Which one is it?"

"Neither and a bit of both," Pansy replied in textbook Slytherin fashion. She took the fourth drink out of Hermione's hand and replaced it with water. "Our girl is gathering her strength before heading back out to battle, isn't that right, Hermione?"

Hermione swung her head to face Pansy, only there was two of her. "Right," she replied to the closest one, lifting her hand to touch her friend's face, finding air instead. That's a neat trick. She wondered how she did that.

"She's drunk," Ginny laughed.

"That has to be a new record," Draco remarked. Hermione was a notorious lightweight when it came to alcohol.

"Liquid courage!" Pansy announced, every witch cheering as they lifted the last of the shots. Hermione guzzled her water with the same level of enthusiasm.

"If she gets sick, I'm making you clean it up," Draco warned Pansy. "Without magic!"

* * *

 

She didn't get sick. At least, she was pretty sure she didn't. Pansy didn't say anything when she flooed home with Hermione and she was not the kind of friend who wouldn't bitch about having to clean up vomit. Hermione stretched, enjoying the feel of soft mattress at her back and light blankets over her body, as she tried to remember what happened after they stepped through the fireplace in the study. Remus had been there, reading. Hermione was sure he said something to her because he was laughing when Pansy left, calling goodbye as she flooed home. She closed her eyes, trying to bring the remainder of her night to focus. She remembered looking up at Remus, her arms tight around his waist as she fought to maintain her balance. Did Sirius come in then? She thought she heard him. Someone gave her a glass of water and a potion. It wasn't a Sober Up potion. Maybe it was a hangover potion? She stretched again, blissfully sighing as her muscles contracted with the movement. No, no headache; no nausea. She was tired, but given her late night, that was to be expected. Yes, they must have given her a hangover potion. They really were considerate wizards, even if that meant they wouldn't touch her.

She rolled over, eager to shower, but the hard body to her left stopped her. She pushed herself up on her arms, peeking through her mess of curls at the naked back beside her. Tan skin. Scarred back. Hermione reached out, her fingers ghosting over the web of wounds. Remus. She slept with Remus! She lifted the blankets, peeking under the sheets. He was naked. Oh Merlin, she was, too.

She peeked under the covers again. Merlin, he was sexy. Remus tended to wear baggy clothes, which did not do him justice. Hermione fought the urge to run her hands over his warm skin, not wanting the werewolf to wake before she figured out the best way to talk about their night together. This was so unfair! She apparently slept with Remus Lupin and couldn't remember a dammed thing! Was this fate's way of telling her not to drink so much? Fine, message received. Gods, how was she going to face him? How do you tell a man you spent the night with that you couldn't remember it? Hermione rolled to the right. Maybe it would come to her after her shower, after she was more awake and had her wits about her.

Sirius' tattooed back stopped her.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," she whispered. Hermione lifted the covers again, knowing she's find a naked Sirius underneath. Yep, no clothes.

Both wizards seemed dead to the world. That was a blessing in Hermione's favor, one of the few fate decided to bestow upon her. Shifting slowly, she moved her body upwards until her legs were on top of the blankets. She turned to her stomach, lifting herself on her hands and knees, crawling backwards until her feet touched the ground. Standing, she looked around the room – it was Sirius' room – for her clothes. Her knickers were on the floor near Remus' side of the bed. Holy Circe, they were nearly ripped in two. She searched again, finding one heel under the bed, the other just inside the doorway. Peeking in the hallway, she saw her abandoned dress near the staircase. Tucking her shoes and the tattered remains of her lacy red knickers in her hands, Hermione dashed down the hall, scooped up her dress, and ran down the stairs to her bedroom, warding the door locked and the room silent before she let out a scream of frustration.

What happened last night?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter was inspired by a one shot I read years ago where Hermione wakes up in bed with Remus and Sirius, and escapes back to Hogwarts for her final year of school while they're still sleeping, only to learn at dinner that they had both joined the faculty. Does that ring a bell with anyone?
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: The first few chapters of this story don't need a lot of editing, so I've posted another one.
> 
> Bad news: There isn't any! I don't think. It's been a good day. I needed this. Please don't take it from me.

Remus rolled over, his hand automatically reaching for the witch he'd held in his arms most of the night. He would never forget what it felt like to fall asleep with Hermione, her soft curves pressed against him, her hair tickling his face, the way her nose would scrunch when one of them shifted positions. It was endearingly adorable. He needed to tell her that, or he would if he could reach her. He opened his eyes.

Empty.

She wasn't in the bed. Neither was Sirius. He sat up, the sheet falling to his waist as he rubbed his hands over his face. Where was she? Where was Sirius?

"She wasn't here when I woke up."

Remus glanced at the wizard walking out of the bathroom, his hair still damp from his shower, a pair of worn jeans low on his hips. "Where is she?"

Sirius shrugged. He'd awoken incredibly hard, wanting nothing more than to continue the previous evening's activities, only to find cooling sheets where a petite witch should have been. Part of him was aware before he even opened his eyes that the chances of him enjoying the morning after of his fantasies was just that – a fantasy - but that didn't stop him from hoping. He was a man, after all, and she had been naked.

He was really getting tired of wanking off in a cold shower.

"I knew it." Remus reached for his boxers, pulling them on before getting to his feet. "I knew this was a mistake."

"Says the man sporting a rather impressive love bite," Sirius grumbled, the image of the tiny teeth marks inciting both jealousy and insecurity. He never considered that Hermione wouldn't be receptive to the idea of both of them. Everything they planned last night was based on the assumption of a triad. So when he walked into the study after hearing Pansy leave and saw Hermione literally climbing Remus, he planned on waiting his turn.

_"She's drunk," Remus informed him as he slid his hands under Hermione's dress to boost her higher in her arms, hissing as her stilettos dug into the small of his back. Hermione grabbed his head in her hands, fisting her fingers in his hair. Her lips took his in a brutal kiss._

_"I see that," Sirius answered wryly, his eyes drawn to Hemrione's knickers, which were nearly in full view now. More red. Lace. He watched Remus flex his hands to grasp her arse tighter. Fuck._

_Remus tore himself from Hermione's kiss. "We can't do this if she's drunk."_

_"I believe the woman sucking on your neck would disagree."_

_Remus' head fell back on a loud groan. "Yes ... just like that, little girl."_

_"Moony."_

_"I'm trying, Padfoot, she just –" he hissed again as her tongue traced the outer shell of his ear, her teeth biting the lobe. She planted her palms on his shoulders, leveraging herself as she rubbed against him. "Get the fucking potion already!"_

_They didn't have a sober-up potion. Sirius pushed aside the vials in the cupboard, damming whoever took the last one, though he was pretty sure he was the guilty party. A hangover potion wouldn't be effective now, unless ..._

_"Here you go, princess," he handed Hermione a glass of water. She was sitting sideways on Remus' lap, the wizard sprawled somewhat haphazardly on the couch, his shirt unbuttoned, hanging from him by one sleeve. Hermione took a break from tracing the scars on his chest with her tongue to guzzle the water, grabbing for the uncapped vial, swallowing it in one gulp. "_ _No!"_

_It was too late. It was gone. Hermione looked dazed for a minute, and then promptly passed out, collapsing against Remus._

_"What was that?" Remu yelled. His fingers automatically checked for a pulse. It was steady and strong, and she was breathing normally._

_"The hangover potion the twins created." Sirius reached down to mimic his friend's motions, relaxing only when he could feel her heartbeat._

_"That was full strength! You're supposed to dilute it!"_

_"Why do you think I had water, asshole?" Sirius growled. Damn it! This was not how tonight was supposed to go. They were going to seduce her, ease her into the idea of the three of them. It was supposed to be a night of exploration, of lips and hands, her screams and their shouts._

_"Calm down." Remus shifted until Hermione was cradled against him, her head falling back as he stood, her curls hanging down as he held her as a man would carry his bride. "So we push things back a night; it's not the end of the world."_

_Sirius glared at his friend. "That's easy for you to say; she snogged you."_

_Remus rolled his eyes. "Yeah, she really knew what she was doing, too. Come on, Padfoot; if you'd been out here, she would have gone after you."_

"Do you think she remembers anything?" Remus' face was pensive.

Sirius considered the question as he pulled a shirt over his head. Hermione hated being kept in the dark under the best of circumstances. If she woke up in his bed, naked, without knowing how she got there … The smile that spread across his face was slow, nearly sinister. Things were looking up.

"Padfoot," Remus warned.

"What?" his face was innocent as he walked to the door. "She might have a question or two. What kind of man would I be if I didn't offer to fill in the blanks?"

Remus grabbed Sirius' arm. "She's probably confused and embarrassed. Can you try, for once, not to make it worse? Please?"

"Relax, Moony," he shrugged out of his friend's grip. "It's not like she's going to owl Harry and ask to borrow a fucking Pensieve."

* * *

 

Hermione crumpled the parchment, tossing it to the floor with her earlier attempts. Why did she think she could owl Harry and ask to borrow his Pensieve? Ginny would know something was up and as much as she loved her friend, the girl couldn't keep a secret to save her life. Then there was Harry, who would practically interrogate her before she could extract a single memory. No, a Pensieve was out. Maybe a memory charm? Surely _someone_ had created a spell for people suffering alcohol-induced blackouts. She'd ask Fred and George, but there's no way she wanted to deal with  _that_ conversation.

She was screwed, figuratively and perhaps literally. She really had no idea. Her body felt a little sore, but that could be from the alcohol, sleeping in a different bed or dancing in the club. It didn't automatically mean having mind-blowing sex with a couple of Marauders. The bruises on her bum said otherwise, but Hermione was fairly certain she'd remember having Remus or Sirius inside of her. Neither man was easy to forget.

No, there was only one way she could play this and that was to follow their lead. As appealing as hiding in her room until the end of time was, they'd be knocking at her door after the first hour. No, what she had to do was act like nothing was different and gauge their reactions. If Sirius tackled her to the floor in the library, it was be safe to assume he wanted a repeat of the night before and she'd happily indulge him. If not, she'd find a way to make him tackle her on the library floor. Either way, she was going to be back in his bed, naked, as soon as she could manage it and this time she would remember every single detail.

All she had to do was open the bedroom door.

* * *

 

Sirius heard her before he saw her. He stood outside the kitchen door, listening to the sounds of breakfast being made: the tea kettle boiling on the stove, bacon sizzling in a skillet, eggs being whipped in a bowl. Hermione cooked when she was stressed. She said it relaxed her. He smirked. A full breakfast at 11 a.m. on a Saturday? She might as well wear a sign that said "I don't know what happened." Good thing he was there to clear the air.

Pushing open the door, Sirius didn't even give Hermione a chance to say hello before he pulled her to him. The bowl slipped from her grip as his lips took hers, neither one reacting to the crash as his tongue swept inside her mouth. She tasted better than he imagined. Mint. Sugar. Honey. She was pure sweetness and he wanted to devour her. He gripped her wrists, bringing her hands up his chest, placing them around his neck, growling when she responded by running her fingers through his hair. His slid his hands down her shoulders to her waist, so slow, the outside of his hands grazing her breasts. He swallowed her whimper and continued his path, his hands settling on her waist.

"Sirius …"

"Mmm." He drew back slightly, biting her bottom lip.

"The food."

"Mmm." He kissed across her jaw, making note of her gasp as he licked where her neck met her shoulder. What would she do if he bit her there?

"It's going to … oh, Gods …"

He smirked. So she liked a little pain with her pleasure. He could handle that.

"Sirius … it's going to burn."

"It's already burning," he rasped, moving until she was pressed against the counter. Shifting, he nudged his thigh between her legs, letting out a groan of his own when she rubbed against him. He couldn't remember the last time he wanted someone this much. He couldn't wait anymore; he needed to be inside her now! His hands grasped the hem of her T-shirt. He pulled away just long enough to tug it over her head, tossing it behind him. Her bra followed, his hands cupping what he'd just uncovered. Her breasts were perfect. He didn't admire them like he should have last night. Bending his head, he licked one nipple.

"Yes," she hissed as her head fell back.

He did it again and again. He licked longer, harder, the red bud puckering under his administration. She threaded her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. He was teasing her, his touches light. She wanted more. She needed more. "Sirius," she begged. "Please."

He listened, drawing her nipple inside his mouth, slowly sucking. She felt the pull of his mouth, the moisture from his tongue. So good. She looked down, his dark hair moving against her as he kissed, nibbled and sucked, his actions setting off pinpricks of pleasure throughout her body. Gods, he was making her wet. Her clit was throbbing. She rubbed against his thigh, desperate for friction between her legs. He chuckled, moving to give the same attention to her other nipple.

"What do you want, Hermione?" he whispered, his breath warm on her breast. "Do you want me to take this sweet bud into my mouth? Do you want me to kiss it and lick it, to make it so hard and wet?"

"Yes …" she moaned.

He did, groaning as her grip on his hair tightened, her fingernails digging into his scalp. She could hear the sounds of his mouth as he suckled. She never realized how erotic that was. One hand was cupping her breast, holding it at his lips, but the other was sliding down. Down. Yes, there; right there! He cupped her through her black yoga pants. Could he feel how wet she was? She was practically dripping.

"I can smell you," he whispered. "Oh, princess, you are so ready, aren't you?"

"Yes," she almost screamed. She couldn't wait anymore. She needed him now! Right now! On the floor, on the counter; fuck, she'd ride him on the table! She didn't care as long as he was inside her.

"I take it we're skipping breakfast."

The couple stopped, two heads turning to look at the man leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest. It was a stance that screamed casual though Sirius could see the whites of Remus' knuckles. "Moony."

Remus' face was blank, carefully schooled to reveal nothing as he looked at his friend. "I thought you said you wouldn't make it worse?"

Sirius looked down at the witch who was practically panting, her chest heaving as she glanced back and forth between the two men with wide eyes. "Can't you smell her, Moony? Don't you see how excited she is? How is this making it worse?"

Remus walked into the kitchen, taking the screaming kettle off the stove – Hermione stared at it dazedly. How long had it been doing that? – and set the skillet of beyond crispy bacon in the sink. He pointed his wand at the window, opening it to clear the smoke from the room. The early April air immediately cooled the warm kitchen. Hermione shivered. Sirius pulled his T-shirt off and tugged it over her head. He hated covering her, but he didn't want her to be cold. Drawing her into his arms once more, he rubbed his hands up and down her back.

"Did you talk about last night?" Remus asked.

Hermione buried her face in Sirius' chest. She was sure she was blushing.

"Hermione?"

Gods, he was using _that_ voice, his you-will-do-as-I-say voice. She loved that voice. She could come listening to that voice. She wanted to come listening to that voice. She looked at Remus, helpless to ignore him. "Yes?"

"Do you know what happened last night?"

She wanted to lie. She considered doing so for a second. She opened her mouth to say yes, but she knew he wouldn't believe her. His green eyes were edged in amber. The wolf was near the surface. Merlin forbid she ever tried to lie to _Moony_. "No," she whispered.

He walked closer, one hand reaching out to push an errant curl behind her ear. His fingers lingered, the tips tracing the tendons in her neck. She arched, pressing her chest against Sirius, giving Remus better access.

"Do you want to know?" Sirius asked, his voice deep.

Did she want to know? Did she want them to tell her how she ended up naked in bed between them? Did she want to know how Remus got that bite on his chest? Did she want to know if he would allow her to bite him in other places? Did she want to feel Sirius' lips on hers again? Did she want Sirius' hands to get back to driving her crazy?

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait until tomorrow! My lack of patience is your gain!

"We didn't sleep together. I mean, yes, we slept together – you woke up in Sirius' bed, so that's obvious - but we didn't _sleep_ together."

"She's 23 years old, Remus. You can say fuck."

Green eyes flashed amber when the werewolf glared at his friend. "I'm handling this, Padfoot."

"So we're back to last night again?" Sirius smirked, though the clenching of his friend's hands was a clear warning that he was on edge, and perhaps it would be a good idea to do what he suggested earlier and keep quiet. Sirius had no problem letting Remus be the one to clear the air, but come on! She was a grown woman. There was no need to sugarcoat things.

He leaned back on the brown leather sofa and eyed the witch in question. They were in the study, as the kitchen needed to air a bit longer. Remus had made tea and piled a plate with the chocolate biscuits he'd hidden on the top shelf of the pantry, behind the roasting pan they'd never used. Both his and Sirius' cups were untouched, growing cool on the table in front of the couch. Hermione had a death grip on hers, which was perched on her knees as she leaned forward in her favorite armchair by the fireplace. She was listening to Remus attentively, looking every inch the bookish swot she'd been at Hogwarts.

Who would've have guessed he'd consider _that_ a turn on?

Granted, her hair was still mussed from when he'd pulled the elastic from her ponytail and gripped her curls to angle her head just so for his assault on her lips. He couldn't explain how satisfying it felt to see that they were still swollen. She hadn't quite lost that dazed look in her eyes and she was still wearing his shirt. It was too big on her, the neckline draped over her left shoulder. Sirius could see the mark from where he'd bitten her earlier, a small patch of red on her pale skin.

That was a turn-on, too.

Remus could feel his friend's tension. Sirius was trying to play the role of calm and relaxed, but Remus knew all he wanted to do what leap over the coffee table and finish what he'd started with Hermione in the kitchen. He understood it because he felt the same way. She'd snogged him senseless last night! He had no idea Hermione was so wanton. Her aggressiveness had riled the wolf, who did not like to let others have control when it came to pleasures of the flesh. That's how he explained it to the women he bedded, though the truth was he didn't like to give up control, either. He spent hours every day suppressing his natural instincts and urges in order to appear a well-functioning member of society. Sex was a release. When he took a woman to bed, it was with the understanding that he was in charge. He'd never hurt his partners, of course, but he pushed them further than they were used to and made demands they didn't expect. Sharing with Sirius worked because Padfoot was the gentleman while Remus was the dominant, though Sirius didn't shy away from control, either.

But Moony hadn't tried to take the lead with Hermione last night. His initial reaction was to throw her to the floor and fuck her until she understood who exactly she was dealing with, but before Remus could pull away to ensure that _that_ didn't happen, the wolf had stopped. Hermione hoisted herself into Remus' arms and instead of slamming her against the wall, he'd lifted her higher, held her tighter, and let her use his body as she found her pleasure.

And he liked it. She was strong and powerful and had looked at him like she knew every secret thought he'd had about her, every dirty fantasy, and every fucking dream. He was desperate for her, but it wasn't the right time. He and Sirius had a plan, an understanding, and they needed to explain it to her before their situation went any further. Unfortunately, she was too intoxicated to listen. When Sirius finally stopped ogling and left to get the potion, Remus had tried to talk to Hermione rationally, removing her hands from their death grip in his hair and helping her regain her footing. She responded by shoving him so he fell back on the couch, settling on his lap before he could move, pulling his shirt out of his trousers and, after discovering her eye-hand coordination was not up to the task of undoing the buttons, ripped his shirt, her warm lips pressing kisses on his chest before the plastic discs even hit the floor.

"Why were we naked?"

Remus gestured for Sirius to answer Hermione's question.

"You were mashed, princess. We would never do anything without your consent, so while Remus kept you, um, busy, I went for the Sober Up. We were out, but we had a vial of the twins' experimental hangover potion, so I figured to give that a go, but you drank it like a shot and passed out."

_"You let me drink something Fred and George concocted?!"_

Remus shook his head. Of course she was more upset about the potion than the nakedness. "That's why we didn't want you to sleep alone, love. You appeared to be fine, but we wanted to be close if something changed."

"My bed's the biggest, so we slept there," Sirius concluded, hoping she was finally ready for the conversation he wanted to have.

"Naked."

All right, so she wasn't ready. "I sleep nude, princess. I saw no reason to change that because you were next to me."

She looked at Remus expectantly. "I wear boxers, usually, but … You couldn't have slept in that dress, Hermione. You had started to take it off earlier, so we finished the job. I was going to grab you something from Sirius' wardrobe, but your breathing had shifted at that point, from passed out to sleeping. I didn't want to wake you."

"That still doesn't explain why you were naked when I looked this morning."

That surprised Remus, but he recovered quickly, giving her a wolfish grin. "You looked?"

She glared daggers at him. "Shut up! I was trying to figure out what happened!"

"What happened was you woke up an hour or so later needing the restroom. Rather desperately, I might add, given that you nearly ripped your knickers in two in your rush to get out of the bed. When you returned, you said it wasn't fair that I still had clothes on and made me remove my boxers."

Now it was her turn to smirk. "I made you?"

Sirius was beginning to feel left out. Again. "So there you have it. You were drunk, Remus happened to be in the right place at the right time, you passed out, we took you to bed, and nothing happened despite the fact you were tangled up in one of us most of the night which led to the most painful morning erection of my life."

"Thank you for that visual, Padfoot."

Sirius ignored Remus and focused on Hermione, leaning forward to make his point clear. "Here's the deal, princess: we want you. We've wanted you for some time. We toyed with the idea of finding a fair way to determine which one of us got to make a move first –"

"Toy being the key word," Remus interrupted.

"Wait, is that why you were –" Hermione's eyes grew wide. _"You were arm wrestling over me?!"_

When she put it that way, it didn't sound good. "We did it all the time at school."

"You are grown men!" she shouted. "You can't arm wrestle to decide who gets the girl! And make a move? Really? Do you honestly think I would have fallen for anything you tried, Sirius? I've lived with you for years. I know all of your tricks."

The look her gave her was dangerous, full of threats and promises. "You think so?"

He was aware of his reputation as a womanizer and felt no shame in it. He liked witches. They smelled good, had soft skin and came in a lot of different shapes, sizes and colors. He would never use a woman. Yes, he flirted with nearly all of them, but if he was going to actually sleep with one, he was careful not to make promises he wasn't prepared to keep. The women he bedded knew the score, but Hermione wasn't like the others. She was funnier, smarter, and so much prettier in jeans and T-shirts than the dressed-up dolled-up women he tended to screw. They were silk, she was cotton, much like the collection of shirts she'd snagged from her male friends and she wore those as pajamas. If his heart flipped a bit the first time she appeared at the breakfast table in his old Beatles T-shirt that was his business. She'd paired it with a pair of pink and purple fuzzy socks dotted with rabbits.

She should've looked ridiculous. He thought she was gorgeous.

Things changed after that. He still went out and he still flirted with the women who approached him in the pubs, but he didn't take any of them up on their offers. He didn't want easy. He didn't want casual. He wanted a challenge. Hermione was a challenge, but she was more, too. He was in the process of trying to figure that out when Remus sat him down and asked his intentions.

_"Excuse me?"_

_"You heard me. What do you intend to do with Hermione?"_

_Sirius immediately took offense. Remus put on a great act in as the composed intellect, but he knew better. The animal he kept on a tight leash most of the time was let free in bed – and numerous other surfaces. While no witch, or Muggle, complained, he'd be damned if he was going to let him take the role of Hermione's protector, especially given his own feelings. He tried to play it casual, but Sirius saw how his eyes followed her, the way his body would tense when she touched him, even if it was a casual brush of her hand against his at the dinner table._

_"I could ask you the same question."_

_Sirius thought Remus would defend himself, but instead he looked defeated. Both men retreated to their own rooms, their own thoughts. They'd shared women before, but never one they had feelings for._

"This is new territory for us," Remus explained, trying to diffuse the tension between Hermione and Sirius.

"No, it isn't," she shot back. "You think I don't hear the stories about you two?"

"I'm not talking about sex, Hermione." His patience running thin. He woke up wanting her. He could smell her excitement before he even walked into the kitchen. Seeing Sirius' lips on her was more arousing then he expected. He agreed to share her, but it wasn't until that moment he believed it could work. Sirius was his best friend, his brother. If he was going to trust the woman he cared about with anyone, it would be him. "Yes, we want to have sex with you, but it's going to be more than fucking," he told her, loving how her eyes widened at his vulgarity. "We care about you."

"I know that, Remus."

"And because we care, we don't want to do anything that could hurt our relationships – yours with us, mine with Sirius, and his with me. After you left last night, we decided we were finished being juvenile and that the best course of action would be to talk to you, like this, and state our wants."

He could get used to that self-satisfied smile of hers. "And what is it you want?"

"You naked," Sirius was blunt. "After that, I'm amendable. Top, bottom, sideways, indoors, out – I don't care as long as I'm fucking you."

He had to give her credit. She barely raised a brow at his words, turning to Remus with the same inquisitive look.

"Your surrender," he answered softly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So NOT suitable for work. You've been warned.

_"Your surrender."_

Two words. Four syllables. So much promise left unsaid.

Hermione was grateful her mouth didn't fall open at Remus' declaration. She was having trouble breathing and was quite certain that if she tried to stand, her legs would fail to support her. Her heartbeat was echoing in her head, a steady thumping matched only by the throbbing need she felt in the center of her very being.

Sirius' kisses in the kitchen had made her hot, made her want. He swooped in and took, giving her no time to object, though his lips and hands felt so good, she never even thought to protest. He was seduction on two legs. She'd watched as woman after woman fell under his spell, drawn to his eyes, his smile, his hands. The scars and tattoos that covered his muscular frame painted him as the stereotypical bad boy; his chiseled features and imbedded manners shined a spotlight on the pureblood aristocracy he loathed; while the words he whispered when kissing a woman, touching a woman, and sinking into a woman fulfilled their every erotic fantasy.

Hermione thought she was strong enough to resist him. She told herself she would not be another notch on his bedpost. She treasured his friendship and didn't want to do anything that would put it in jeopardy. But even a smart woman with the best of intentions was bound to crumble when she looks up and sees Sirius Black watching her; at least, that's what Hermione told herself.

That's what it was in the beginning: lingering looks, followed by knowing smiles, casual flirting, and, finally, innocent touches. He was good. She knew what he was doing, but she couldn't prove it. What could she say? A rational woman didn't tell her friend to stop smiling at her. A sensible woman wouldn't yell at him for telling her she's beautiful. A reasonable woman wouldn't jerk away when she felt his hand settle on the small of her back protectively (possessively?) in a crowded pub. His seduction was so careful, so complete, that by the time she realized what it was, she was in too deep. She wanted him. He made her want him. She spent a week denying it and another getting mad. Finally, she decided to turn the tables, to do to him what he'd done to her – the looks, the smiles, the touches – and see who came crawling to the other first.

Then the werewolf intervened.

Hermione loved the enigma that was Remus John Lupin, the perfect combination of man and beast. When Sirius and Harry suggested that she move to Grimmauald Place after leaving Hogwarts, the opportunity to spend more time with Remus was one of the reasons she said yes. While Sirius was the opposite of everything Hermione thought she wanted in a man - which was likely the reason he appealed to her so much - Remus embodied her idea of perfection. When she looked at him, she didn't see his scars. She didn't see the tattered clothing, the graying hair or the stiffness in his joints after a full moon. She saw his intelligence, his sincerity, his bravery, and his virtue.

This made the first time she heard a woman screaming his name incredibly shocking.

She knew Remus wasn't a saint. He was a Marauder for Circe's sake. He may not have been the instigator in their schemes and pranks, but he was a key player and, though he'd never admit it, she had a feeling he was the mastermind behind their more brilliant ploys. As a fellow intellectual who had no problem bending the rules when it suited her needs, Hermione appreciated his discreet rebellion. Subtlety was a fine art. When used properly, it made the attack that much greater.

She should have remembered that.

Remus wasn't as obvious with his love life, but years of living together and a natural skill for observation taught Hermione plenty about the werewolf's wants, needs and desires. The few times he brought a woman home and forgot a silencing charm, she would listen to the screams and ache. She saw these women leave hours later – they rarely spent the night – looking tousled, spent and unbelievably satisfied.

She hated every single one of them.

She hated Sirius' women for being so stupid to fall for a line he'd used a million times before and she hated Remus' for experiencing the side of him she'd never see. She hated both of them for making her jealous in the first place and vowed to find a wizard who could fill the yearning they'd ignited in her. She dated. She fucked. She almost let herself fall in love. She threw herself into her work. She buried her desire in nights out with friends.

And she wanted.

It should have been simple. She had an itch and needed them to scratch it. She knew Sirius was willing, but she couldn't continue to flirt with him until she knew where Remus stood. The dress was the test. It would tell her which wizard to seduce. She wanted both. She wanted both on a scale that no man or wizard could measure, but she was a practical witch. Happily ever after was for fairy tales, a woman getting everything she desired was a romance novel. Then she saw Sirius' eyes burn and heard Remus growl. She was ecstatic and terrified at the same time. They wanted her! She wanted to throw herself at Sirius, to wrap her legs around him and trace the intricate ink that adorned his skin. She wanted to feel Remus at her back, his words whispering demands in her ear, secret things she always wanted to try, but never had the courage to do – not until he made her. And then her mind, her incredibly smart and brilliant mind, chose that moment to interrupt.

They wanted her and she wanted them, but that didn't mean they were open to sharing. They had before, but neither Sirius or Remus did long term. If they shared her, would it be for one night? One week? More? Because more was what she wanted - more and then some. And now? Now? It was the moment. The moment she dreamed of, wished for, and plotted to get.

They told her what they wanted.

Naked.

Surrendering.

It was too much and not enough. Wary brown eyes moved between gray and green. No one spoke. No one moved. They were waiting for her response, waiting for her. She knew it would be the last time, the only time, they'd wait for her. She had a decision to make: take them as they are or not at all. She could have everything she ever wanted or nothing.

"I'm not drunk anymore," she announced.

"No, you're not," Remus replied.

"I know what I'm doing."

"You always do," Sirius told her.

She set her cup on the floor. She was happy to see her hand was steady. She rose to her feet, her fears, her doubts, her questions pushed aside as Remus let his mask slip. She nearly moaned aloud at the hunger in his eyes. Her eyes flicked to Sirius. He simply ran his gaze slowly down her body, managing to make her feel naked and exposed despite the fact he was the one without a shirt. "I want both of you."

"We won't take it easy on you, princess," Sirius warned.

"I don't want easy."

They stood at that and she had to fight the urge to take a step back.

"Take the shirt off, Hermione." Remus' command was firm, his voice reverting back to the gravelly tone he used in the kitchen. She obeyed without thinking, arms at her sides as they studied her.

"Now the pants," Remus continued, his voice getting lower. She swallowed, sliding the clingy black cotton down her stomach, thighs, calves, struggling to maintain her balance as she kicked the pants off of her feet.

"No knickers?" Sirius was intrigued. "Is that a regular thing for you Hermione?"

She wasn't sure how to respond. Did she admit she'd sat at the kitchen table sans underwear to see if their canine senses' would react to her scent?

"Hermione." Remus was firm. "Answer Sirius' question."

She blinked at the order.

"I told you I want your surrender, Hermione," Remus reminded her. "I won't, _we_ won't, ease you into this. We will start how we mean to go on. If you want us as much as you say you do, you'll do as we say."

Oh gods, was it possible to come from a man's words alone? She didn't understand why her body was responding this way. She was an independent woman, a strong woman. Men had broken up with her because they couldn't handle her. So why was Remus' aggressiveness making her wet? Why was Sirius' subdued assessment making her weak? Why weren't they touching her? She was trembling with need, with desire. There was no way they couldn't see that, no way they couldn't smell it.

"You marked her, Padfoot."

Sirius was smug. "I did, Moony, and will again."

Hermione watched the exchange, feeling as if she was missing something. "What are you –"

She never had a chance to finish her sentence, Remus leaping over the coffee table to pull her in his arms, his lips and teeth on her right shoulder, first sucking, and then biting. It wasn't hard enough to break the skin, but she squeaked in surprise. Her body was stiff in his arms when he lifted his head, his eyes on focused on the red mark that would be visible for several days.

"Happy now?" Sirius inquired languidly.

Hermione looked at Remus. He was gasping as if he'd run a marathon, his eyes nearly gold as his gaze narrowed in on her. "Are you ready, little girl?" he growled.

* * *

 

She thought she was. The cockiness of her earlier confidence was downright ridiculous as she watched the two men remove their clothes, their eyes never leaving her. They were still in the study, though Sirius had the foresight to disconnect the floo and change the wards so no one could interrupt them.

"Do you remember kissing me last night?"

Hermione shook her head at Remus' question. He fingered a tiny bluish-black bruise on the left side of his neck, just above his collarbone. "You did this," he said proudly. "You were wrapped around me, your hands gripping my hair, when you ran your tongue down the side of my neck and bit. After that, you put your hands on my shoulder and moved yourself up and down my cock until you came."

"I missed that," Sirius grumbled.

"It was a sight to see, Padfoot. She is beautiful in release." Remus took two steps forward, taking Hermione's hand in his, drawing her to him without the strength, the power, he displayed earlier. He brushed his fingers down the side of her face, leaning down to kiss her softly on the lips. She swayed forward, wanting to deepen the kiss, moaning when he pulled back slightly. "Not now, little girl. Sirius needs you." He turned her so she faced the dark-haired wizard, his hands on her shoulders as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "He didn't get to play last night, Hermione. Sharing only works if everyone gets a turn, so I need you to make Sirius feel good."

"What should I do?"

Her inquiry delighted him. She was yielding. Better yet, she wasn't aware she was doing it. He ran his hands down her side, wrapping her in his arms as her pulled her into him. "What do you think he wants you to do?"

She ran her gaze over Sirius. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight, his cock jutting proudly from his body. She could see a drop of pre cum on the tip and licked her lips, too entranced to hear the groans of her companions.

"Go," Remus whispered, kissing the top of her head.

She did, taking Sirius by the hand and leading him to the couch. She ran her hands up his arms, down his chest, loving the sounds he made as she explored his hard muscles. "I love when you walk around without a shirt," she confessed, tracing the lines of the faded tattoo across his chest. "I've wanted to touch you like this for so long."

"Fuck princess," he groaned, his head falling back as she repeated her ministrations with her lips. "You can do that anytime you want, but now … baby, I need you too much."

She smirked, her hands flat on his chest she nudged him to lay down lengthwise on the couch, moving to settle over his calves. She ran her hands up and down his thighs, loving the feel of the dark hair against her palms. He watched her through hooded eyes, his breath catching with each brush upwards.

"Hermione," Remus growled. "We should probably tell you know that we're going to take our pleasure from you, but I'm not opposed to denying you yours."

She looked over her shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"You used my body last night. You ignored Sirius completely. Why should we let you come?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

"There you go," he nodded. "Time to use that clever mouth of yours to suck Sirius dry."

Her lips were on him before she could question her actions, her tongue darting out to taste him before she licked his shaft. Sirius' groan of appreciation, of pleasure, made her desperate to please him, to make him feel so good. She wasn't thinking about what would happen after or later. She was only thinking of now as she opened her mouth wider, taking him deep.

"Yes," he hissed, his hands going to her hair, his fingers tangling in her curls. He was too big for her to take all of him in her mouth. She wrapped one hand around his base, the other moving down to fondle him as she slowly started moving up and down. Sirius closed his eyes, his head falling back as he struggled to keep his hips still, fighting against the urge to thrust into her warm mouth.

Remus was silent as he watched the two people he cared about most in the world touch each other. Hermione was committed to her task, her entire focus centered on Sirius, his groans and whispered words of encouragement guiding her movements. Remus watched her move, her breasts swaying, her nipples brushing against Sirius thighs, her pert little bum rocking with every bob of her head. He wasn't kidding when he said he would deny her an orgasm. Not today, of course. He was going to make sure he made her come until she passed out, but why tell her that? His Hermione loved to learn things on her own. Grinning at the thought, he strode to the couch until he was at Hermione's back. Running the palm of his hand slowly down her spine, he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"That's my girl," he breathed. "You are doing such a good job, Hermione, I think you deserve a reward. Do you agree?"

She nodded, instinctively knowing he would not want her to speak, to risk losing the rhythm. Sirius needed her. She'd neglected him. She needed to show him that she wanted him as much as she wanted Remus. She felt his hands caress her bottom, heard his murmur of appreciation as he continued down her thighs.

"Spread your legs," Remus told her, moving his hand to cup her sex, his long fingers exploring her soaked folds. "Oh baby, you need us, don't you? You are so wet, so swollen. I can feel you quivering already. You are desperate to come, aren't you?"

She nodded frantically, her mouth moving faster, sucking harder. She nearly cried when Remus removed his hand, only to sob in relief when she felt his tongue lick her slowly, slit to clit. His breath was warm on her pussy as his tongue repeated his movements.

"I'm going to eat you, little girl, but you can't come; not until Sirius does," he rasped hoarsely. "Do not stop sucking him. If you stop sucking him, I'll stop licking you. If I stop licking you, we're done for today. Do you understand?"

She could feel tears of frustration gather in her eyes, but she nodded. Yes! Yes, she would do whatever he said, whatever he wanted, whatever he demanded, as long as he didn't stop. Remus' large hands grasped her hips, forcing her to hold still as he began licking in earnest. She moaned, the vibration making Sirius groan in response. He couldn't stay still anymore. His grip on her hair tightened as he pumped his hips in slow, shallow movements, nearly coming when she relaxed her throat to take him deeper.

"Fuck!" he shouted. "Gods, baby … Just like that … yes … just like that!"

Remus showed his approval by pressing his tongue against her clit, circling it slowly. He moved one of his hands in between her legs, sliding two fingers inside her. He could feel the walls of her vagina pulsing. "Don't come," he growled.

Bastard! He was licking her clit, slowly fucking her with his fingers, while Sirius had her head in his hands, thrusting into her mouth, her name a constant chant on his lips. She couldn't fight the orgasm. She couldn't!

"So close …" Sirius groaned. "So fucking close … I'm going to come, baby. Gods … fuck … yes!"

She felt his come hit the back of her throat and swallowed automatically. He let go of her hair, his hands immediately going to her breasts, cupping them in his hands as she sucked him dry, then licked him clean, her movements frantic as she fought her building orgasm.

"My Hermione," he sighed, picking his head up as she let him slide out of her mouth. "You did so well, princess. Do you want to come now?"

"Please," her eyes were wide with need. He took her nipples between his thumb and finger, pinching lightly just as Remus took her clit in his mouth and sucked. Hard. She shrieked as she came, her hips bucking against Remus' mouth. He responded by wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he devoured her sweetness. He licked, loving how she trembled above him. He had to be in her. Now.

He stood, pulling her with him, spinning her around so he could kiss her. She could taste herself on him when his tongue slid between her lips to duel with hers. He ran his hands down her back, pressing her closer to him. The tips of her breasts were hard against his chest and her thighs were trembling.

"Do you want the couch?" Sirius smirked.

Remus was too busy kissing Hermione to respond. No couch. Floor. He needed to be in her, to rut against her, to mark her body with his. He'd worship her. Gods, he find a million ways to worship her, but now he needed to fuck her. Hard.

Sirius watched as the werewolf clutched Hermione close. The couple sank to the floor, his large body covering hers as he pushed in to her with a loud groan. He moved from the couch, grateful his legs could still support him as he sat by Hermione's head, one hand going out to push damp curls away from her face. "Do you see what you do to him?" he whispered. "You make him lose himself. He doesn't fuck on the floor. You made him do that. You drive us crazy, princess. You've had us panting after you for months. We've wanted you for so long. Are you ready for us? Are you ready to be taken again and again, to scream yourself hoarse, to pass out from pleasure? We are going to take you every way we can, Hermione. When you go to work Monday, every inch of you will still feel us."

Too much. Sirius' words, Remus' thrusts. It was all too much. She opened her mouth to tell them, but no words came out.

"More," Remus grunted, pulling Hermione's legs up and around his waist. The slap of their bodies echoed in the room as he plunged deeper. "Look at me," he demanded, so close to the edge. He needed to see her, to make her go over before he did. "Look at me!"

She forced herself to do what he said, her lids heavy as she brought his features into focus. Remus. Moony. One and the same. She tightened her legs around him, drawing him closer, one hand going out to grip Sirius'. He lifted their joined hand to his lips, kissing her fingers, sucking them into his mouth, mimicking Remus' thrusts. Oh Gods!

"Now, little girl," Remus growled, his balls tightening with the need to spill himself in her. He slid one hand between their bodies, his fingers rubbing her clit frantically. "Come for me. Come!"

She did, crying his name. He dipped his head, swallowing her words as his world exploded. He continued to thrust until he was empty. He couldn't remember the last time he'd come so hard. It was almost painful. He balanced his upper body on his forearms, muscles shaking with the effort as he looked down at the woman watching him warily. He leaned down to kiss her lips, the tip of her nose, before sliding down her body to rest his head on her stomach. Sirius moved behind her, laying on his side, lifting her head so he could cushion it on his arm. Hermione lifted one hand to run it through Remus' sandy brown hair, her other still linked with Sirius'.

"Our girl," Sirius murmured, loving the exhausted smile she gave him before closing her eyes and sliding into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Saturday! Does that make this chapter still NTFW?

She wrinkled her nose when she slept. Sirius shifted slightly, partly so he could watch her do it again – he was not a man who used the word cute often, but that's exactly what Hermione was in sleep – but also to ease the ache in his lower back. Cuddling on the floor after sex was impulsive and romantic in theory, but painful in reality.

"My knees hurt," Remus complained, his cheek still resting against Hermione's stomach, eyes closed as he waited for his heartrate to return to normal.

"I offered you the couch," Sirius pointed out quietly, not wanting Hermione to awaken. He needed a few minutes to wrap his head around what happened before waking her for the next round. There _would be_ a second round. He was not finished with her.

"Wasn't thinking," Remus mumbled. "Had to be in her."

Sirius groaned quietly, his cock twitching at Remus' words. He loved being in Hermione's mouth, feeling her lips around him, her tongue on him, as she sucked him dry. It felt amazing, _she_ was amazing, but it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted to be inside her. He wanted to hear her moan his name as he moved in and out of her. He hadn't yet decided how he would take her – fast and hard or slow and sweet – but when he did, soon, he would do it properly. In his bed.

For their first time, at least.

"Moony OK?"

"I'm fine." Wincing, Remus pushed himself to a kneeling position. He should have cast a cushioning charm. He was too old to be taking witches on a hardwood floor.

"No, I meant is Moony OK?"

Remus considered the question. He was aware that, towards the end, it wasn't just him with Hermione. It was his body moving deep within hers, but the wolf wasn't content to stay hidden as his human thrust into the woman they'd lusted after for months. Remus never let the wolf that close to the surface when he was with someone, afraid what he might do, what Moony would do, if he ever truly let go – and yet he did, just for a bit, when he was with Hermione.

It wasn't the first time Moony fought to break free. The days before the full moon, sex was the only thing that kept Remus from going crazy. He knew what was coming. He knew what would happen to him. He knew, he could never forget, how much it would hurt. Having that pain staring him in the face every month … It was Sirius who suggested Remus use sex to deal with his tension. They were 17 at the time, two years removed from their virginity, enjoying the perks that being a Marauder afforded them.

_"What did you say?"_

_"I said you should find a bird to take the edge off," Sirius flopped onto his bed, kicking his shoes off, folding his arms behind his head. He had an hour before his next class and he planned on using it to sleep, not listen to Remus jerk off two beds over. "For fuck's sake, Moony, three days before the full moon is a hard time for all of us thanks to your incessant -"_

_"Stop," Remus sneered. Any other time, he'd stammer an excuse but like Sirius said, the full moon was three days away. Moony was clouding his judgment. Remus would never consider shagging a girl this close to his transformation, but now that Sirius suggested it, the beast was howling._

_"Tell me why it's not a brilliant suggestion. Come on; you're the smart one. Give me on good reason."_

_"I could hurt her."_

_Sirius snorted. "You couldn't hurt a person if you tried. You fold your socks!"_

_"Padfoot, I'm not **me** this close … If I was to have a girl now, it wouldn't be sex. It would be fucking."_

_"What's your point?"_

_Remus shook his head. Sirius was too young to be so jaded. "Sex should be about more than getting your rocks off."_

_"And three weeks out of the month, it is – for you, anyway. You don't have to love the person you're with, just make sure she has a good time. Trust me, once she gets a taste of Moony, she'll be begging for more."_

_"She? Who's she?"_

_Sirius shrugged. He didn't know. She could be any number of witches. Girls loved Remus. He had that shy vulnerability thing going for him; they couldn't resist it. When word about his self-control got out, the line of Hogwarts females hoping to be the one to make him lose it drastically increased._

_"Forget it," Remus lay back on his pillow, willing himself to sleep. "I don't trust myself."_

_Sirius sat up. "Fine. I'll do it with you."_

_Remus didn't bother opening his eyes. "You're cute Padfoot, but you're not my type."_

_"I'm everybody's type, mate, but that's not what I meant. I'll have the girl with you."_

_Now Remus sat up. "What?"_

_"You and me." Sirius was warming up to the idea. "We find a girl, we get her naked and you find your release. Between the two of us, she'll be up for anything by the time Moony comes out to play, and I'll be there to call you back if you go too far."_

_Remus shook his head. Every time they pulled off another one of Sirius' schemes, he told himself that was it; that was as far as Sirius could go. Even he had a limit._

_He was wrong and Sirius was right – at least about this. They found a seventh year Ravenclaw rumored to be quite friendly and for two nights before the full moon, Remus and Sirius discovered how broad the word friendly could be. Remus didn't let go, not completely, never completely, but enough to ease his anxiety._

_His transformation the next night was painful, it always was, but not nearly as bad as it could be, as it had been. Sirius was convinced the sex had something to do with it and Remus couldn't find a strong enough argument against it._

"Moony?"

Remus looked at Sirius. He was sitting up, jeans on, staring at him, Hermione naked on the floor between them. He looked down, noting the bruises on her hips, four small marks on each side, caused by his fingers. This was in addition to the bruise he left on her neck, his need to mark her like Sirius the driving force behind the relentless desire to push Hermione harder, farther. He expected to feel shame, but it didn't come. She had enjoyed it, holding him tighter, meeting his every demand without hesitation. Remus was stunned. He slipped. He let go and the world didn't come crashing down. She was fine. He was, too. Did Sirius see it? Did he feel it? This was it. _She_ was it. "It's fine," he finally said, unable to find the words to explain what he was feeling. "He's fine."

Sirius slipped an arm behind Hermione's back, lifting her to a seated position. She mumbled something, her eyes still closed. "Shh," he murmured, sliding his other arm under her legs, lifting her effortlessly. "I've got you." He wasn't sure she heard him, but her arms went around his neck and she cuddled into him, planting a soft kiss on his chin, sighing his name, _his name_ , before drifting off again. "I'm taking her to bed," Sirius told Remus, who was pulling on his beige trousers.

"Whose?"

"Mine."

Remus wasn't surprised. If the situation was reversed, he'd take her to his room.

"Are you coming?" Sirius asked.

Remus smiled. He wanted to. Now that he had a taste of Hermione, he was eager for more, but he knew Sirius. The Animagus needed a moment, a chance to gather his thoughts, to put his defenses back up before Hermione knocked them down again. "In a bit."

"We might start without you." His tone was jokey, but there was truth in his words. Every other time they'd shared a woman, it was always the two of them with her. Neither one ever went solo. Insinuating that he wouldn't wait meant more than either man was ready to acknowledge.

"I'll catch up," Remus promised.

* * *

 

She was dreaming. That was the only thing that could explain the hands sliding down her naked flesh. They were calloused, rough, but the way they touched her was unbelievably soft. The movement stopped. She arched her back, reaching out, sighing as lips replaced hands, warm on her breast, a tongue darting out to lick, to suck. A hand returned, this time sliding lower. She held her breath, hoping, waiting, exhaling as it stopped just above her pussy. She moved her hips, the brush of fingers sliding through her folds her reward.

"Yes," she hissed.

He was sucking her nipple now, tongue swirling the hard bud, as his fingers continued to fondle her below. He didn't rush. He wasn't rough. It was slow, languid, completely unaware of the fire building in her. She arched again, wanting him to take more, suck harder. Her hips were moving faster. He slid a finger insider her, followed by another, his thumb circling her clit, maintaining the slow pace, as she moaned. She was close. She could feel it.

"Open your eyes, princess."

No. She didn't want to wake up. Please, not yet.

The fingers stopped. They remained buried inside her, but they were motionless. The mouth lifted from her breast.

"No …" she whimpered.

"Hermione." The voice was soft, but insistent. "Look at me."

She didn't want to. It felt too good. She shifted restlessly, hoping the fingers would respond. She was so close …

"Baby, I've got you," the voice promised. "I promise. Open your eyes; look at me. Look at me and I promise I'll take care of you."

Lashes fluttered and heavy lids parted. Sirius smiled at the woman beside him, loving how dark her eyes got when she was aroused. They lightened when she laughed and flashed gold when she was angry. He could get lost in her eyes.

"Sirius," she whispered.

"Hi."

She smiled. "Hi."

He kissed her, slowly, softly, not wanting to rush. He was going to let her sleep. He brought her to his room, put her in the bed and stripped to join her. She curled against him, her body flush with his, her head tucked under his chin. He ran his hands slowly up and down her back, tired, but not able to close his eyes. She felt too good. He moved over her until she was on his back. He shifted to her side, and drank in the sight of her before the need to touch consumed him. He was going to be light, soft, the barest trace of his flesh on hers. She was so warm, so soft. He remembered what it felt to have her over him, pleasing him, and he had to have a taste, had to take her breast in his mouth. Her moan went straight to his cock. He sucked. She arched.

"I thought I was dreaming," she confessed.

"And now?"

"Better than any dream."

He kissed her, a slow press of his lips on hers, his fingers taking up their movement once more. She gasped and he swallowed her cries.

"Sirius," she pleaded her voice heavy with desire.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Tell me and I'll give it to you."

She threaded her hands through his dark hair and pulled him closer, thrusting her tongue inside, her hips moving faster, taking his fingers deeper. "Harder," she begged.

"You already had harder," he told her.

She shook her head. "Not enough. More please."

He moved his head back to her breasts, kissing, sucking. He wouldn't rush. He could feel how wet she was, hear how excited. She was close. Her body was thrashing, doing everything she could to get the friction she wanted, needed. He was killing her.

"Almost there," he whispered against her breast. "I can feel it. Your walls are quivering, princess. You are going to explode. I'm going to keep my fingers in you until you stop and then you'll have me."

"Yes …"

"I'm going to slide into your tight, hot, wet pussy and I'm going to bring you up again. Come on, now. Show me what it's going to be like. Let me feel you, baby."

The coil of need snapped and she broke. She didn't scream his name, but spoke it yearningly. It was full of promises, her voice. He kissed her, moving over her, taking his cock in hand, teasing her with the tip. "Do you want me?"

"So much."

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but her eyes stopped him. Had anyone ever looked at him like that before? He couldn't speak. He slid inside her, groaning as he felt her grip him. She was tight. He pulled out, nearly all the way, and slid in again. "You feel amazing, princess. Do you know how many times I dreamed of this? I'd wake up so fucking hard with your scent in the air. I'd grab my cock, stroke it, pump it, thinking of you."

She moaned.

"Have you dreamed of me, baby? Me and Remus?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Did you wake up needy, your poor clit throbbing?"

"Yes …"

"Did you wish we were there to touch you, kiss you?"

"So much," she groaned, arching her neck. He took that to mean she wanted him to kiss it, so he did, his lips settling on the very spot his sucked and bit that morning.

"Did you touch yourself, Hermione? Did you touch yourself and think of us?"

"Yes. I'd hear …" her voice trailed off.

"What did you hear?" he asked, his body continuing to thrust inside her in a steady rhythm. He was making her crazy. She lifted her legs to encircle him, the heels of her feet pressing into him.

"I heard you with others, you and Remus, with other women, and I wanted to be them," she confessed, color staining her cheeks. "I'd touch myself, imagine it was you, it was him, touching me. I'd scream when they screamed."

"Fuck," a hoarse voice whispered.

The couple on the bed turned their heads. Remus was standing in the door, eyes wide, mouth open, as he watched them move.

"She heard us, Moony," Sirius grinned. "She did naughty things to herself listening to us."

Remus kicked off his pants, climbing on to the bed. Taking Hermione's chin in his hand, he turned her to face him, green eyes boring into brown. "That stops now, little girl," he snarled. "Every naughty thing you do from now on, you do with us, to us. If you want to touch yourself, you do it in front of us."

"Shit," Sirius groaned, pushing up on his arms as he moved faster.

"He likes that," Remus told Hermione. "He wants to watch you pleasure yourself. Can you imagine it; you naked, spread out on your bed, the two of us staring as you slide your hand inside your pussy? Can you see it, Padfoot? She'd be flushed, sweaty. Her breasts would move with her, those nipples darkening, tightening, the closer she got to release."

"Damn you," he roared, his movements punishing now. Hermione wanted to shout in triumph. Finally!

Remus kissed Hermione forcefully, using his teeth to bite her lower lip. She was panting, her breath heavy against his mouth. "Are you waiting?" he asked. "Are you waiting for us to tell you to let go?"

She nodded, her heart bursting at the look he gave her. Pride. Affection. Satisfaction.

"She's ready, Padfoot," he told Sirius.

"Yes," he yelled, body poised for release. "Now! Let me feel you let go!"

She wanted to. She was close. It hurt, she was so close, the end so near, yet she couldn't reach it. Remus smirked, leaning close to her ear, running his tongue around the outer shell. Nibbling on her lobe, he whispered the word he knew she needed to hear. "Come."

It was like he flipped a switch inside her, that one word command setting her off. She shouted Sirius' name, heard him roar hers in response, but still he moved, not wanting the moment to end. It would never be enough. Shuddering, he emptied himself in her, arms shaking as he struggled not to collapse on her. He pressed his lips to her forehead, which was slick with sweat, falling to the side, gasping.

"Still think you're dreaming, princess?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing chapter seven. It should be posted soon.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione was used to seeing Sirius smirk. The man exuded confidence and had no issues with letting others know how satisfied he was with his life, but the look the dark-haired wizard had on his face at that moment defied gratification. She'd smack him, but she was pretty sure her own face bore a similar look. She turned towards Remus, who was lounging next to her, propped up on his elbow, his eyes lustful. She watched as he brought one hand up to push the curls away from her face, slowly sliding down to caress her breasts. She grabbed his hand before he could go further; loving the challenging look he gave her. "I'm starving," she confessed. "I was making breakfast when I was rudely interrupted."

"I didn't hear any complaints at the time," Sirius teased.

"Nor do I have any now," she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek before sitting up. Clamoring over the bottom of the bed for the second time that day, she grabbed the first piece of clothing she found – Remus shirt – and pulled it on, not noticing how Remus' eyes narrowed as she covered herself. "I'm going to shower, then I'm going to make, well, lunch, I guess at this point."

"Need company, princess?"

She paused in the doorway and her imagination kicked in, but forced herself to shake her head and keep walking. She was feeling thoroughly used – in a good way – but her poor body could use a break. Neither man was exactly gentle. While she loved that at the time, her body bore the brunt of their enthusiasm with several bruises and whisker burns.

She walked down to her room, leaving her bedroom door open as she made her way to the adjoining bath, turning the shower on warm. Leaving Remus' shirt on the floor, she stepped in the glass-enclosed shower with a sigh, still not quite believing what had happened.

_"Still think you're dreaming, princess?"_

If she was, she never wanted to wake up.

* * *

"She's putting up walls."

Sirius looked over at Remus. The werewolf was getting dressed, an irritated look on his face. He had no idea how his friend could be annoyed. He, personally, felt amazing. Hermione was everything he imagined she would be – and they hadn't even got to the really good stuff yet. "You think because she wants to take a shower by herself, she's trying to put distance between us and what happened?" he scoffed. "She's fine, Moony."

"We haven't talked about what we're looking for," Remus pointed out.

"We haven't talked much at all," Sirius snorted.

"Is everything a joke to you?"

"What is your problem?" Sirius glared at his friend. "I'd tell you to get laid already, but since that just happened, I'm lost."

Remus ran a hand through his hair, not knowing how to explain the moment of panic that hit him when Hermione walked out of the room. This wasn't a one-off for him. When he took her, he felt something. This wasn't just sex. It was something more and he wanted to know – no, he had to know – if it was the same for her, too. He was overreacting. He knew that, but it didn't help. He wanted Hermione here, with him, with Sirius. He breathed better when she was near. Her scent calmed him. It also drove him crazy. It was hard to put into words.

"Take a shower, Moony," Sirius advised. "If you go chasing after her the way you look now, you'll scare her off before we figure this out."

Remus didn't say anything as he walked out of the room. Sirius shook his head and rolled over, debating whether or not his desire to get cleaned up outweighed his wish for a nap. Then there was the thought of lunch. Breakfast was interrupted, though he'd do it all over again if he got the chance. He snorted. Who was he kidding? He'd damn well make sure there was another chance.

* * *

The first thing Hermione saw when she walked into the kitchen was a cluster of owls waiting impatiently by the kitchen window. She pointed her wand at the window to let them in, but nothing happened.

"Sirius changed the wards earlier," Remus brushed past her and opened the window manually, watching in amusement as the owls dropped their missives on the table, nipping a treat out of the palm of Hermione's hand before flying away. He picked up the envelopes, each one bearing Hermione's name. "Mail call for Miss Granger."

She looked up from the loaf of bread she was slicing. "All mine?"

"I imagine a certain witch we both know grew impatient when she could not reach you," Remus grinned. "Why don't you look them over and I'll handle lunch?"

She took a seat at the table. "There's chicken in the refrigerator and I think enough roast beef for one sandwich. Remember, Sirius doesn't like mustard. He says he does, but he makes that face every time I put it on his sandwiches. I don't like –"

"Tomatoes. You hate tomatoes."

She paused in her opening of the first letter to beam at him. "That's right."

He rolled his eyes as he walked to the refrigerator to get out everything he needed for sandwiches. Why would she be surprised that he remembered she hated tomatoes? They lived together for nearly four years; of course he knew she hated tomatoes. She also hated cucumbers. She would speak up in a restaurant if either appeared in a salad, but forced herself to eat them when dining at the Burrow. She lived on a schedule of coffee and tea he'd yet to decipher. She loved ice cream more than any other sweet and hid small cartons inside empty food packages in the freezer, leaving the chocolate ice cream in the open as a decoy.

"Pansy or Ginny?" He set a plate with and a sandwich and several carrot sticks by her elbow.

"All Pansy," Hermione replied, picking up her tea and blowing carefully on the hot liquid before taking a sip.

_Is everything all right?_

_Wake up already! You weren't that drunk._

_I'm this close to sending Ron over there. Owl me!_

_You disconnected the floo! What is going on?_

_Hermione Granger, you better be shagging those gorgeous men! That's the only excuse I'll accept for ignoring my owls._

"That witch needs to get over her shyness." Sirius remarked as he read the notes over Hermione's shoulder, laughing as she slammed them face-down on the table. "So she knows you wanted to shag us, did she? Tell me, princess; was last night's get-up an attempt at seduction?"

Hermione took a bite of her sandwich, refusing to answer. Instead, she flipped over the least incriminating message from Pansy and jotted a quick response. She'd send it off after lunch.

"Avoidance," Sirius mused, giving Remus a look. "That's an admission of guilt if I ever saw one."

"At least I wasn't arm wrestling my best friend," Hermione shot back.

"Princess, I have no complaints about the dress." He took her hand, lifting it up so he could kiss her knuckles.

"I've one," Remus interrupted.

Hermione looked over, a questioning look on her face.

"You went out wearing it," he continued, green eyes steady as he looked at her. "Did you dance with other wizards dressed like that, Hermione? Did you let them touch you?"

Merlin. He was using that voice. Again. She could feel herself get excited. Again.

Remus leaned forward, elbows on the table, his eyes locked with hers. "Did you know that when you get aroused, your eyes darken? They're usually the color of firewhiskey, but they deepen to molten chocolate when you have a craving. What is it you want, little one? Do you want to feel us against you? Do you want both of us at your breasts while our hands explore your body? Do you ache to have us inside of you?"

She swallowed, the images he painted making her warm all over. Sirius still had her hand in his, his hold tightening as Remus spoke.

"I know what I want," he continued. "I want to feel your lips around my cock. I want to hear those delicious sounds you make just before you let go. I want to taste you. I want to see what you look like when you ride me, how you feel when you have both of us inside you at the same time." He smiled as her eyes widened, her breathing increasing as he continued to seduce her with his words. "Did you think that wasn't an option? You said you heard other witches scream. Did you imagine what we were doing to them?"

She shook her head.

"Why?"

"Because," she whispered. "I didn't think about them. I thought about you … with me."

His smile was slow. Wicked. Predatory. "Finish your lunch, Hermione. We'll talk about the dress afterwards."

Her back went up at that. She had no problem with dominant Remus in the bedroom. She'd had an inkling he got off on control even before she experienced it for herself and was more than happy to meet his needs, but if he thought her submission extended beyond sex, she was putting her foot down. Now. He said they'd start as they mean to go on. She did, too. If they couldn't handle that … she didn't want to think about it, but great sex – _incredible sex_ – was not worth losing her sense of self. "I like the dress."

"I like it, too."

"You can't tell me what I can or cannot wear."

"I don't believe I did."

Sirius watched the back-and-forth with an amused expression. They were both so stubborn. That would probably cause problems in the future, but right now it was making for an entertaining lunch. Plus, Remus was the bad guy. He rarely got to be the good guy. He wondered what kind of perks it'd afford him.

"Then there will be no 'talking about the dress' after lunch, Remus."

Remus raised an eyebrow at her tone of finality. "So if I told you I wanted you to put it on again so we could demonstrate how we would have taken it off of you had you not been so …"

"Drunk off her ass?"

"That's a lovely sentiment, Pads; thank you," Remus rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't do it?"

"Dress up, huh?" Hermione sat back, amused as she glanced between both wizards. "I'm learning so many new things about you both."

"Finish your lunch," he repeated. "We've lots to show you."


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm not talking to you!"

Hermione tried not to smile at Pansy's look of indignation as the brunette glared at her from the doorway. The stalemate lasted for all of 15 seconds before Hermione held out the double shot mocha she'd picked up on her way to work. Pansy took a seat in one of the two armchairs in front of Hermione's desk and accepted the coffee, still glaring at her friend as she sipped the hot liquid.

"I was worried, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you weren't. If you had been worried, you would have sent Draco over like you did that one time I was with Adrian and –"

Pansy held up a hand to interrupt Hermione; she didn't come off well in that story. "You were drunk."

"I have it in writing that, according to you, I wasn't _that_ drunk."

"You were drunk enough to flirt with Remus when I got you home," Pansy grumbled, still upset that the witch she considered her best friend basically ignored her all weekend except for one message that said "I'm fine; we'll talk Monday."

Hermione leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Apparently I was drunk enough for a lot more than flirting."

"I knew it!" Pansy slammed the coffee cup on Hermione's desk, flicking her wand impatiently at the liquid that spilled over the edge. "What happened? You shagged him, didn't you? What does this mean? Did Sirius care? Does this mean you're dating Remus? LUNA! Luna, get in here! NOW!"

The blond strolled into the room, her usual dreamy look on her face. She took the chai tea Hermione handed her with a smile and sat in the second chair. "You should limit your caffeine intake, Pansy," she advised. "The fibbots don't care for it, you know."

Pansy shook her head, still not sure how she became friends and colleagues with Loony Lovegood. The girl was daft, spouting other nonsense every hour of the day. How Draco managed to put up with her, she'd never know. Ron guessed that she must be up for experimentation in the bedroom. Pansy, who viewed life as a competition, spent the rest of the night making sure her husband would never say something so stupid again. "Hermione shagged Remus!"

Luna studied Hermione, her head titled to one side as she took in her friend's cautious smile and the way her eyes kept glancing about the room. "Yes. And she slept with Sirius, too."

"How do you do that?" Hermione shouted at the same time Pansy screamed "What?!"

Luna leaned back in her chair. "Your first appointment is in 15 minutes, Hermione. I suggest you give the highlights first. We can delve into the details during lunch."

Hermione laughed, so grateful for her girlfriends. When she finally got around to owling Pansy Saturday, she was feeling too overwhelmed for a floo call or visit, and Sunday passed in a blur of sex, cuddling, sex, resting, sex, food, and sex. Remus and Sirius had stripped her to her most basic of needs and by the time sheer exhaustion set in Sunday, it was too late to ask either one what it all meant, though truth be told, she was afraid of their response.

She spent the night in Sirius' bed – again. When she woke up naked that morning, she knew how she got there and remembered everything that led to being wrapped up in both wizards. Sirius grumbled when she got out of bed, but quickly fell back asleep. Remus had to be at the Ministry of Magic for an early meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and left without breakfast, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before stepping into the fireplace.

That was how he always said good bye to her. She was trying not to read into it too much.

"Hey!" Pansy snapped her fingers in Hermione's face. "The clock is ticking!"

"Um, so after you left Friday, I guess I kind of threw myself at Remus because I woke up Saturday morning in Sirius' bed with both of them and none of us were dressed."

Pansy and Luna high fived. They really needed to stop going to Quidditch matches with Ron and Draco.

"So apparently nothing happened Friday because I was drunk –"

"Damn Gryffindor morals," Pansy muttered.

"- but then we talked Saturday and they said they wanted me, and I said I wanted them, and then …" she trailed off, the blush on her cheeks a telling sign for what happened next.

"I'm going to need more than that, Hermione," Pansy told her. "I had to listen to you talk about them for months. That kind of dedication is worthy of specifics."

"You don't have to tell us everything –"

"Yes, she does!"

"—but three best things," Luna finished.

"Three best things?" Hermione clarified.

Luna nodded. Pansy crossed her arms on a huff, but eventually nodded as well.

"Um … OK, so Remus really likes to be in control, so the best thing about him is when he's with you, he is completely into you. He doesn't break eye contact, and he's constantly telling me what he's doing and what he's going to do next. His voice gets so deep, it's almost _raw."_ Hermione took a deep breath remembering it. "That voice is dangerous."

The two witches sighed.

"Sirius is not what I expected," she confessed. "He's all about the slow burn, with the little touches and kisses that build up the need until you are screaming at him to take you, and he just smiles and does it all over again. He does not like to rush, something about the journey being just as important as the end."

"That's two," Luna prompted.

"The third best thing … it was bloody fantastic!" she laughed. "I didn't know I had it in me to come as much as I did. I lost count!"

Pansy leaned forward. "Did they, you know, at the same time?"

Hermione shook her head. "We haven't gotten to that, but they mentioned it."

"You'll love it," Luna assured her as she exited the office, leaving Hermione and Pansy staring after her.

"Well done, Draco," Pansy murmured.

"Well done, Luna," Hermione corrected. Pansy held out her coffee in agreement. The two witches tapped their cardboard cups together and sipped.

"You look thoughtful," Pansy remarked. "That's never good."

Hermione brushed her finger over an invisible speck of dirt on her desk. "It was better than I could hope for," she acknowledged. "When we bought that dress, I never really thought it would work and now that it has …"

"What?"

"I don't want it to end," she confessed.

"Who says it has to?" Pansy asked. "If you managed to get them off as well as they did you, why would they want to stop?"

It was one of the few times where Hermione was grateful for her friend's bluntness. Pansy may be a Slytherin, but she was married to a Weasley and they do not keep things inside. "But they don't do long-term. I'm not even sure _I_ know how to do long-term. Marcus is the longest I lasted with anyone and he was on the road for most of it!"

"First of all, I'm not saying you go home tonight and demand that they marry you and make babies. Men tend to run from that."

"Except your husband."

"He's special," Pansy smirked. "But I do think the situation calls for a 'What are we doing?' conversation. The three of you live together. That could get awkward the longer you shag like rabbits without defining the situation."

"But what if they tell me they just wanted to get into my knickers and now they're done?"

"They would never say that. You know Remus and Sirius. You are not one of the random witches they pick up for a good time. Remus would never shag you if he wasn't prepared to think beyond a night or, in your case, weekend and Sirius … Hermione, that man has been flirting with you for months!"

"He flirts with everyone."

"Not the way he flirts with you," Pansy assured her. "He cares. Remember when you had the flu? Do you honestly think Sirius Black would sit in another witch's bathroom reading to her while she vomited her lungs out?"

She'd been sick for almost two days, barely able to hold down a sip of water. Sirius found her curled up on her bathroom floor and when she refused to leave the bathroom, stayed with her. He wiped the sweat from her forehead, held her hair back when she was sick, and rubbed her back as she leaned against the cool porcelain, praying for death. "Thank you for that visual."

"It was sweet," Pansy told her. "Gross, but sweet."

"All right," Hermione conceded, "but what if only one of them thinks of this as something worth exploring?"

"Then take it and to hell with the other one. If he can't see how amazing you are, he doesn't deserve you!"

Hermione smiled. "I love you, Pansy."

"Of course you do," she said, getting to her feet. "Now, if you really want to know how to make a triad work, I suggest you speak to someone with more experience. Or someones."

Hermione blanched. "No. No, no, no, no."

"You know I'm right," Pansy told her. "Come on. It's not like they wouldn't help you."

"But first they'll tease me mercilessly."

"I guess you need to ask yourself if it's worth it."

She met with three patients before deciding it was.

* * *

 

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was quiet when Hermione pushed open the door; a rare occurrence. In the six years since the store opened, Fred and George found a level of success no one saw coming. They opened a second location in Hogsmeade, which Ron oversaw, and expanded their mail order operation to wizarding communities throughout Europe. There were talks of opening a shop in the States, but neither brother wanted to make the move across the pond and when Ron mentioned it to Pansy, she threatened something he refused to repeat.

"Hello?"

"Hiya, love," Fred poked his head out from behind a display. "Right on time."

"Thank you for agreeing to my last-minute dinner invitation," she kissed him on the cheek.

"My favorite witch owls and asks if she can bring me and my brother dinner?" Fred asked, taking the bags of take-out curry out of Hermione's hands. "I'd be a fool to say no. We can go up. George is in charge of locking up tonight."

She followed him up the narrow staircase to the flat on the second floor. As comfortable in the twins' home as she was her own, she shrugged out of her lightweight coat and tossed it over the couch before kicking off her heel. Fred left the food on the bar that ran the length of the kitchen, so Hermione went to the cupboards for plates and forks, pleased she remembered to bring butterbeer, too.

Their refrigerator was completely empty.

"There's the love of my life," George greeted Hermione with a kiss on her neck, biting lightly when she elbowed him in the stomach.

"You have no food in your kitchen."

"Ah, but we have a friend who feeds us," George told her, piling a plate with steamed rice before opening the containers of curry looking for his favorite. "I have a theory that you know when we're on the verge of starvation and come sweeping in to save us from ourselves."

Hermione considered his words, knowing there was more truth to them than not. "What will you do when I decide you're not worth saving anymore?"

"Not possible," Fred walked out of his bedroom, having changed into worn jeans and a gray T-shirt. "You love us too much."

The three carried their plates to the living room where they spent the next half hour eating and catching up on gossip. Bill and Fleur were expecting their third child, but that wasn't enough to keep Molly from putting the pressure on Ginny and Harry.

"They aren't even married yet!"

"Yes, but if Harry manages to get Ginny knocked up, they'll have to set a date, yes?" George asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your mother is crazy."

"Says the woman who hides every relationship she's embarked on from our sainted mother so not to be subjected to the same scrutiny," Fred pointed out.

"Speaking of scrutiny," Hermione began, wishing she'd thought to buy a bottle of firewhiskey, too. "I have a question to ask you about threesomes."

George spit butterbeer across the room and Fred started choking on his green curry. Hermione handed George a napkin and thumped Fred on his back until his face returned to its normal color.

"Merlin, woman! Warn a man before you start throwing out words like that," he gasped, taking the butterbeer she handed him, drinking until the bottle was empty.

"Sorry. It's not like there's a delicate way to start this kind of conversation."

"And why are we talking to you about threesomes?" George asked.

Hermione wished she'd taken Pansy up on her offer to tag along. "Perhaps threesome is the wrong word. Can we go with triad?"

"It's still three people," Fred pointed out.

"But it sounds less … icky."

George snorted. "Sorry, love, but if the word sounds 'icky,' then you are not ready for that kind of relationship."

"Fine!" she threw her hands up in frustration. "Threesomes. Triad. Two wizards and one witch pleasing each other at the same time. Satisfied?"

Fred smirked. "Were you?"

She flushed and the twins laughed, stopping only when she started hitting them both. For a tiny thing, she packed quite a punch.

"Truce!" Fred cried, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Fine," she huffed.

Fred glanced at George who gestured for him to proceed. "Since you've come to us, I take it you are aware of our situation?"

"That the two of you share witches? Yes."

"And the reason we do that …"

"I assume it's because you're so close, one doesn't want to leave the other behind."

"Brightest witch her age," George murmured.

"So, how does it work? I mean, I know how the physical aspects of it work."

"Really?" Fred leaned forward, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement. "Do tell."

She smacked him on the top of his head. "I was wondering about the relationship aspect. I mean, if there's a witch you both like, how do you keep things fair? Do you get jealous?"

George looked at his brother. "Well … we haven't had much luck in the long-term, but with the few witches we've managed to keep around for a bit … you have to find your balance. Hopefully, she'll know that fairness is the key – you can't call yourself a triad if two people are shagging more than the third."

"It's not something everyone can do," Fred added. "George is my twin, my other half, so it's natural for us. People who don't have that connection, there's more of a struggle. If it's something you're considering so you won't have to make a choice, you need to think about what you're asking of the wizards involved."

Hermione bit her lip. She had hoped the twins would tell her a simple spell would solve her problem.

"Are you talking about Remus and Sirius?" Fred asked.

"Is it that obvious?"

George smiled. "Not if you weren't looking. But we know what it's like to have feelings for Hermione Granger, so we paid attention."

She looked up; expecting to see the usual smirk on his face, but George was serious. She glanced at Fred who nodded sheepishly. "When? Why? You didn't say anything!"

"Never got the chance, love," Fred quipped. "If you weren't seeing someone, all of your free time was spent with Remus and Sirius."

"Lucky bastards," George said with a wink.

"This conversation got weirder," Hermione told them. "I didn't think that was possible."

"We aim to please," Fred leaned over to kiss Hermione on the cheek. "Cheer up! We got over our crush years ago. No unrequited love here."

"Though if you really wanted to experience multiple orgasms, I'm sure we could work out an arrangement –"

"George Weasley, I am not shagging four wizards!"

He sat back, feigning disappointment. "And I thought you were an overachiever."

* * *

 

Hermione flooed into the kitchen, full from dinner and a bit buzzed from the drinks and conversation. The twins echoed Pansy's declaration that neither Remus nor Sirius had it in them to treat her as a one-night – er, multiple nights – stand and that she needed to tell them what she wanted before anything else happened. "When did they grow up?" she muttered, going to the sink for a glass of water.

"It's late."

Hermione turned around to see Remus sitting at the table, a cup of tea and a book in front of him. "I had dinner with Fred and George." Remus' gaze was steady, which put Hermione on the defensive for some reason. "They're my friends."

"I know that."

"I can join them for dinner if I want."

"I know that, too."

"Stop looking at me like I did something wrong!"

"Stop looking at me like you expect me to do something wrong!"

Sirius rushed into the kitchen. Remus and Hermione were yelling at each other. They didn't yell at each other. Hermione yelled at him. Remus yelled at him. He yelled at both of them, but they never yelled at each other. He looked back and forth between the two. She had her hands on her hips and was glaring at Remus who was still sitting, though his hands were clenching the arms of the chair. "So … guess we won't be reenacting the last time Hermione came home late, huh?"

Hazel eyes shifted to him, flashing angrily. "That's all this is to you, isn't it, Sirius? A joke? Fine! You had your laugh. I hope you enjoyed it because it's never happening again!"

He grabbed her arm as she moved to leave the kitchen. "Hey, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing!"

"Nothing? You were all soft and sweet this morning, and now you're yelling. What happened between now and then to piss you off?"

She shrugged out of his grasp. "What the hell was this weekend?"

He eyed her warily. "Incredible?"

"No! I mean, what did it mean? Were you trying to scratch an itch, Sirius? When you and Remus couldn't come to a decision about who got to make a move first, did you decide to team up and call it good?"

Remus stood up suddenly, the chair crashing to the floor. "Is that what you think it was? Might I remind you that you were the one who deliberately wore a dress to get us hot and bothered? How do we know that fucking us both wasn't another item on your never-ending things to do list?"

She slapped him, her hand striking his cheek before she realized she did it. "I don't sleep with people I don't care about!"

"So you care about us?" Sirius asked.

"Of course I care!"

"So do we," Remus said quietly.

"Hermione," Sirius stepped forward, one hand slowly going out to rest on Hermione's shoulder, "this weekend wasn't a one off, princess. When we said we wanted you, we weren't just talking about sex."

"But you said you wanted me naked."

"Still do. If you didn't wear clothes ever again while we're alone, I'd be happy."

"But …"

"But," he grinned, "that conversation really wasn't the time to share how we saw this long-term."

She looked at Sirius, then Remus, her shoulders relaxing as she took in their cautious expressions. They were just as scared as she was. "How do you see it?" she whispered.

This time it was Remus who reached out, running his hand down her hair, twisting his fingers around the ends, the anger that burned in his eyes moments before gone, though his face was still guarded. "Neither of us has the best record when it comes to relationships," he began. "Sirius never wanted to settle down and I've got my own hang ups."

She stepped forward. "I know that."

"So it makes sense, don't you think?" he continued. "You know I get in my head too much and Sirius can be a pain in the ass –"

"I'm not the one she hit!"

"—and we know you like to distance yourself when things get too real."

Her back went up at that. "I do not!"

"I said it was late and you slapped me," Remus said calmly.

Hermione glared. "You said other things before I slapped you!"

"Are you going to do it again?" Sirius asked. "I wasn't paying attention last time."

"Hermione, I adore you," Remus was genuine as he focused on the witch, ignoring his friend. "I don't know what that means right now, but I do know I want the chance to find out."

"I care about you, too," she replied in a soft voice. She turned to Sirius. "And you, Sirius."

He felt the knot that started in his stomach as Remus and Hermione confessed their feelings to each other loosen. They weren't going to leave him behind. "I have no idea what I'm doing, princess, but if anyone can tell me how I'm supposed to handle this, you can."

Hermione laughed and hugged him. "I don't think they have books on triads, Sirius."

"Technically, they do, but they focus more on ritualistic bonding and -" Remus grunted when Hermione threw herself at him. He wrapped his arms around her, bending his head to bury his face in her curls. She felt Sirius at her back, his hands on her hips as he nuzzled her neck.

"Just so I'm clear, we're going to try dating?" Hermione asked, sighing when Sirius' hands slid up her stomach to cup her breasts.

"Does dating include shagging?" he growled, nipping the back of her neck.

"It better," she breathed just before Remus kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some smut ahead.

Hermione moaned when Sirius' fingers found her nipples, tweaking the small buds between his thumbs and fingers. She arched her back to press herself into his touch, her tongue still tangled with Remus'. She would never get used to two men touching her at once, each one focused on driving her insane. She loved when they worked in tandem, their movements echoing the other's, forcing her to do nothing but feel as they brought her higher and higher. She also loved when they were like this, Remus rough and demanding, and Sirius smooth and easy. Her body screamed at her to hurry, to respond, the find the release she so desperately fought while her mind delighted in the pleasures to come.

"So good," she sighed as Remus trailed kisses down her neck, his long fingers undoing the buttons of her blouse. Sirius shifted his hands to pull the pink silk from her gray trousers.

"I've been hard for you all day," Sirius whispered in her ear. "I woke up wanting you." Sirius undid the clasp of Hermione's bra, his large hands covering her breasts, delighting in how well they fit his hands. Kissing her neck, he growled when she turned her head to find his lips with hers.

Remus went to his knees, running his hands slowly up and down the backs of Hermione's thigh as he rested his forehead against her stomach. "Can you smell her, Padfoot?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Have you been thinking of us, Hermione? Did you remember everything we did to you this weekend? Did it make you want?" He moved one hand around to cup her heat still covered by the trousers he was anxious to remove, but she was so much fun to torment. She would whimper and beg. He loved hearing his name come from her lips as she pleaded for him to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her. "Did you need to rub your legs together to ease that ache that starts right here?" He flexed his hand.

"Remus, please."

He smirked. There it was.

"You know he likes to tease, don't you?" Sirius' focus was still on her breasts as he kneaded the round flesh.

"Mmm … you both like to tease."

"True." Sirius’ fingers settled on her nipples once more, pinching, twisting until they were hard. He looked down and saw Remus pulling the zipper down on Hermione's trousers, sliding a hand inside rather than tug the fabric down her legs. He felt her breath hitch. "Is she wet, Moony?"

"Sopping," he growled.

"What should we do with her?"

"She's right here," Hermione protested, the heat of her words lost to another moan when Remus slid one finger inside her.

"So you are," Remus agreed. "What do you want, little girl?"

Sirius smirked, giving Hermione's nipples one more twist before he slid his hands down to rest on her hips. They were slowly rotating to take Remus' finger deeper inside her. Her head was back, mouth slightly open, one hand in Remus' hair, the other moving behind her to cup Sirius' length, her hand flexing over the denim of his jeans. He sucked in his breath, but said nothing as he waited for Hermione to answer Remus' question.

"Hermione?"

She heard Remus, but didn't answer, so intent on what he was doing to her, his finger slowly fucking her as his thumb circled her clit. She'd been on the edge most of the day, her conversation with Fred and George ramping her up more. Just another minute. One more minute and she could focus, would focus.

"Remus asked you a question, princess," Sirius reluctantly removed her hand from him. "I'd answer it before he gets irritable."

Hermione looked down at the man kneeling at her feet. He watched her with narrowed eyes as he slid his finger out of her, bringing his finger to his mouth and licking it ever so slowly. "I do love the way you taste," he told her. "Do you want more? Do you want me to remove your clothes, lay you on the floor and lick you until you scream?"

"If that's what you want Moony to do, I can use my tongue on your breasts," Sirius continued. "Or maybe I'll simply kiss you and swallow your cries as he makes you come."

"Or Padfoot can fuck you, right here, right now," Remus continued in a casual tone. "I think it might be his turn to have you."

"Keeping score, are you?" Sirius joked.

Hermione couldn't believe the conversation. She was standing in the kitchen, half naked with two fully clothed men, and they were discussing who was going to have sex with her as casually as one would talk about the weather.

"Her back went up, Moony." Sirius wondered if Hermione's temper would come out and add another level to their coupling. He enjoyed having her soft and pliant, but when she rode him, her hands holding his shoulders down as she took him deeper inside her … She was a strong witch and that strength was a turn on. Fuck, he had a lot of them when it came to her.

Remus rose to his feet, his gaze slowly taking in Hermione's disheveled state. He could see the conflict on her face as she struggled with how to approach him. She wanted to submit, he knew that and had proof of how much she enjoyed it, but it didn't come naturally to her. Or rather it did, but she wasn't comfortable with it. He assumed that's why she yelled at him earlier, scared that the demands he made on her in the bedroom would carry over to other aspects of their lives. She had no idea she was the one calling the shots. She had the power to bring him and Sirius to their knees with only a look.

He brushed her cheeks with the back of his knuckles, smiling as she closed her eyes and sighed. He ran his hands down her arms and lifted her until she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. "What do you want, Hermione?" he asked quietly.

She opened her mouth to answer when the sound of the floo in the study stopped them.

"Sirius?"

"Shit!" The Animagus grabbed Hermione's blouse from the floor and thrust it between her and Remus.

"What's Harry doing here?" Hermione pushed herself out of Remus' arms, trying to put her shirt back on at the same time. Remus removed her bra from the back of one of the kitchen chairs and held it out, smiling when she snatched it out of his hands.

"Don't glare at me, little one; I didn't ask Harry to stop by."

"Shit, shit, shit!" Sirius ran his fingers through his hair. "I'll stall him."

Hermione wasn't listening as she fumbled with the buttons, slapping Remus' hands when he tried to help. "What's wrong with you? Do you really want Harry to walk in and see us like this?"

"Didn't we just decide we're dating?"

"Dating, Remus! Not screwing each other in the kitchen!"

"Sirius will be disappointed," he grinned, not even caring when that comment earned him another smack on the chest. "Have you always been this violent?"

She tucked her shirt into her trousers and stuffed her bra into her pocket. "I will kill you," she threatened.

"That's a yes. Good to know."

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry took in Sirius' unkempt appearance and winced. "You forgot we were going out tonight, didn't you? You have a woman in your room, don't you? Sorry! Um, I'll just go see what Hermione's up to, yeah?"

"No!"

"Huh?"

Sirius put an arm around Harry and led him back to the study. "She was yelling at Remus about something or other a little bit ago. Best to avoid her for now."

"She was yelling at Remus?" Harry looked confused. "She never yells at Remus. She yells at you. Ron. Malfoy. Sometimes me. But never Remus."

"Yeah, well, the sainted werewolf pissed her off." Sirius took the crystal decanter from the side bar and poured two glasses of firewhiskey. "He's not perfect, you know."

Harry took the glass Sirius handed him. "All right," he said carefully.

Sirius threw back the liquid and swallowed, the burn doing nothing to quench the heat in his stomach. Fucking Remus; he always had to make a production of everything. If he had just gotten Hermione naked, he'd be sated and happy instead of frustrated and horny.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Harry asked, taking in the dark expression on his godfather's face.

"Yeah, just … it's been a long day, Harry. Nothing a night at the pub won't cure. Give me a couple minutes to get cleaned up?" He left the study without waiting for an answer, bumping into Remus in the hall. "Where is she?"

"Her bedroom."

"Good. We're going to the Leaky with Harry."

Remus shook his head. "I'm not the one who made plans with Harry, Padfoot. I'm staying home."

"With a ramped-up Hermione Granger? Over my dead body, Moony." Sirius grabbed Remus by his elbow and dragged him up the stairs. "Change and meet me in the study in 10 minutes. I'll fill Hermione in."

"Is she coming?"

Sirius winced at his friend's choice of words. "I'll ask, but I doubt it. She avoids the Leaky Cauldron on a good night."

Following the war, Harry, Hermione and Ron were touted as celebrities. Harry, use to the attention, did his best to ignore it while Ron enjoyed the newfound fame. Hermione, though, hated having people stare at her or talk about her. One of the reasons she returned to Hogwarts was to get away from public scrutiny. It's also why she befriended Draco Malfoy. The pureblood refused to think of her as anything but Granger and his lack of preferential treatment endeared him to her. The scrutiny faded over the years, but Hermione still avoided most well-known wizarding establishments. When she did go out, it was usually with a large crowd so she could fade in the background; a night out with The Boy Who Lived, the notorious Sirius Black and a well-known werewolf would be too intimate and illustrious for her.

"Princess?" Sirius knocked on the door jamb before pushing the door open, his blood spiking when he noticed the clothes he'd been in the process of removing from her laying in the middle of her bedroom floor.

"Hey," she walked out of the adjoining bath, wearing a short blue terrycloth robe with white polka dots. She was running a towel over her damp curls.

"Cold shower?" he smirked.

"It seemed the wisest course of action." She bent over to gather her clothes from the floor, looking up when Sirius groaned. "What?"

He strode forward and pressed her against the wall, slapping his hands on either side of her body to cage her in. "You honestly expect me to believe you weren't aware that I can see down your robe when you lean over like that?"

She didn't think about it, but given his reaction, she made a mental note to do it more often.

"That's a dangerous look, princess."

"You have no idea, Black.”

He sighed, lowering his head to rest his forehead against hers. "I told Harry we'd grab a drink tonight."

"Ginny left on an exhibition tour." She threaded her fingers through his dark locks. "He's lonely."

"Want to come with us? We can play footsie under the table."

She rolled her eyes. "While I'm sure the line of women wanting to play footsie with Sirius Black is quite long, I'm going to pass."

"You're the only witch I want to play with," he muttered.

That made her smile. "I know," she said softly, combing her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, loving how he felt when she touched him. "This might be new for us, but I've known you for years, Sirius. I trust you."

He couldn't tell her how much those words meant to him. In his world, loyalty was everything. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

"Kiss me goodbye?"

She framed his face in her hands, going to her tiptoes to press her lips lightly against his, sighing as his hands slid down to cup her backside, pressing her lower body into his. "Be good," she whispered against his lips.

"Only if you promise not to be when I get home," he leered.

"Deal." 

* * *

She had changed into an oversized Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes T-shirt and was sitting cross-legged on her bed with a pile of files when Remus poked his head around the door. "Off to break some hearts, Mr. Lupin?" she asked, taking in his dark brown trousers and tan Oxford shirt. Getting to her knees, she gripped his collar and pulled him forward, kissing him hard.

"Merlin," he breathed, stumbling when she let him go. "You do not make it easy on a man."

"What's the fun in that?" She ran her hands down his chest, his own capturing hers before she went lower.

He sat on the bed next to her, her wrists bracketed in one hand as he used his other to run finger along her exposed neck and collarbone. "Do you honestly think because I need to go that I'll let this kind of behavior pass?"

She shivered slightly. "Are you one of those men who can only dish it out, Remus? Do you not like to be teased in return?"

"Not usually; no."

"Hmm."

"That's a dangerous look, little one."

"You aren't the first person to tell me that."

He leaned forward to nuzzle her, his tongue darting out to lick where her neck meets her shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to join us? We'd keep the admirers at bay."

"I should get some work done," she tilted her head to give him better access, sighing as his hand slid up her leg. "I planned on doing it this weekend, but was distracted for some reason."

"That's strange; the same thing happened to me," he murmured.

"How odd."

"Isn't it?" He pulled away, an impish look on his face.

"You better go before Harry comes looking for you." Hermione ran her hand over his hair. "Try not to break too many hearts tonight."

"I won't even dignify that with a response, little girl," he growled, pressing his lips to hers in a rough kiss before he walked to the door.

"Remus?"

He turned. "Yes?"

"You always used to call me 'little one,' but now, sometimes, you say 'little girl.’ Why the change?"

His grin was wolfish. "That's what **he** calls you."

* * *

"I don't know what to do," Harry looked morosely at his firewhiskey. "Every time I see Molly, she's on me to set a date for the wedding, but when I try to talk to Ginny about it, she laughs and says there's plenty of time. They're driving me crazy!"

"Women," Sirius held up his glass so Harry could clink his glass to his.

"Do you think Ginny doesn't want to get married?" Remus asked.

Harry shook his head. "No, I think it's more she doesn't want what comes after. Kids. Responsibilities. She loves her mum, but she doesn't want to be her. Ginny's more like Hermione. She wants to conquer the world."

"Is Hermione against marriage?"

"Are you kidding?" Harry snorted. "She had more fun helping me pick out Ginny's engagement ring than I did. She's all for marriage, but only when the union is 50-50 – and that's what I want! I didn't ask Ginny to marry me so I could have a billion kids and a woman at home to wait on me. I just want her in my life."

"Have you told her that?" Sirius asked

"Not those exact words," he hedged.

"Piece of advice: tell her," Sirius counseled. "For all she knows, you're like Bill and Ron, just hoping to keep the wizarding world's population on the rise."

Harry nodded. He was right. When Ginny got back from her tour, he'd tell her everything. Did he want kids someday? Sure, but they were young. There was plenty of time.

"Do you think Hermione wants children?" Remus mused.

Harry eyed his former professor curiously. "I have no idea. Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I may live with her, but she keeps a lot to herself."

"I haven't talked to her about that, but I know she's ready for Ron and Pansy to have a few babies for her to coo over. She'd be a great mum. She took care of me for years. She still takes care of you two."

"I cook sometimes," Sirius protested.

"Tell me something, Sirius; did she really have the flu a few months ago or was that food poisoning?"

Sirius pushed his chair back from the table. "I'll get the next round."

Harry turned toward Remus. "How is Hermione?"

"Fine. Why?"

"I don't know," he hedged. "She hasn't seen anyone for a while and every time we're together, the wedding comes up or Ron's talking about married life. I don't know what she and Pansy talk about, but I'm sure it's along the same lines. Does she seem lonely?"

Remus thought of the woman he took on dining room table the night before. "No, she doesn't seem lonely."

"Good," Harry sat back, his green eyes thoughtful. "She was pretty devastated when she and Marcus stopped seeing each other."

"Flint?" Sirius passed out three drinks.

"Yeah. I was telling Remus how he was the last person Hermione was serious about. Actually, I think he's the only one she really fell for."

"That tosser?"

"Eh, he's not so bad these days," Harry took a sip of his firewhiskey, missing the disgusted look his godfather gave him. "I think if Quidditch didn't keep him on the road so much, they might have made a go of it."

"She doesn't like Quidditch," Remus pointed out.

Harry smirked. "She liked the benefits of it."

Remus' fingers tightened on his glass.

"Anyway, if you think of any potential wizards that might make a good match for Hermione, let me know. I'm thinking nice wizards, not one-off sort of thing. She deserves to be wooed for once."

Sirius choked on his drink. "Wooed?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I know that's not your thing, and maybe not yours Remus, but she hasn't had much romance. I think finally she's out of the sex-as-a-release phase. It would be nice for her to see the tender side of dating." His eyes were thoughtful as he considered the wizards he knew who were single. Fred and George jumped into his mind first, but he doubted she could handle a triad. "I think Oliver Wood is single," he mused. "She had a crush on him when we were kids; only time she willingly sat through practices. I should owl him."

Sirius looked at Remus, panicked. Oliver Wood was not going to lay a hand on their witch.

"Shit. I just remembered. He's dating Katie Bell."

"That's too bad," Sirius muttered.

"Yeah. Well, between the three of us, I'm sure we'll think of one wizard who can make her happy."

* * *

"Harry needs to set a damn date!" Sirius growled.

"Anxious to be best man?" Remus toed his shoes off with a yawn.

"If he's up to his eyeballs in wedding plans, he'll be too busy to think of Hermione's dating life!"

"Speaking of," Remus began, knowing Sirius would hate what he had to say, "what Harry said struck a nerve."

"What he said struck a lot of nerves.” Sirius grumbled, still pissed that Harry considered Oliver Wood good enough for Hermione. "What are you referring to?"

"Hermione's lack of dating experience."

Sirius snorted. "So she rather shag than make awkward conversation over dinner. I say more power to her!"

"But we agreed to date her," Remus pointed out.

"Yeah?"

"So what does that mean? We continue to shag?"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Shouldn't there be more? Dinner? Flowers? A concert or something?"

Sirius stared at Remus. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. Think about it. Three days ago, she was Hermione; our housemate. We were attracted to her, but that's it. Now she's …"

"She's Hermione, the woman we're shagging."

"But she's more than that, Padfoot." Remus’ tone was solemn.

Sirius groaned and threw himself on the couch. Yes, she was more than that. He didn't know what just yet, but he was perfectly content with what they were doing while he figured it out. He had a sinking suspicion Remus felt otherwise. "You want us to put an end to the shagging, don't you?"

"Not forever."

"Thank fuck for that!"

"But just enough to, I don't know, show her we meant it when we said we're dating."

"What does Moony have to say about this?"

Remus glared at Sirius. "I don't have a fucking split personality, Padfoot."

"No, but you do have a wolf inside you that will be gracing us with his presence at the end of the month. Will he be able to see her, smell her, remember what it's like to be inside her and not pounce?"

Remus sat in the oversized armchair with a sigh. "Fuck."

"Not now, thanks to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all had a lovely weekend!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this update makes your Monday a little bit better!

Sirius rolled over, but it was no use. He wouldn't be sleeping. Three nights of having Hermione in his arms or snuggled against his back ruined him. He wasn't the best sleeper anyway. The nightmares that plagued him for years were no longer a regular occurrence, but managed to make enough appearances that it was difficult for him to truly relax if he hadn't exhausted himself physically beforehand. Some people accused him of being a playboy. Maybe he was, but he was also a man coping the best way he knew how. Sighing, he pushed aside the covers. He hoped Remus was struggling with sleep, too. It was only fair.

By the time the two had agreed to shift their focus from physical gratification to emotional, it was nearly 2 a.m. Hermione was sound asleep when both men stopped by her room on the way to their beds. She was curled on her side, her hands pillowed under her cheek, mouth slightly open as she breathed, her nose doing that crinkling thing that stirred something inside both of them.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sirius asked though it was hopeless. Remus was the most stubborn person he knew besides Hermione. If he decided they needed to romance her to show she meant more to them than a warm body, that's what they would do. He could've refused, of course, and continued to shag Hermione while Remus tapped into his inner cupid, but that's not how triads worked. He wouldn't start the relationship with that kind of rift between him and Remus.

"It won't kill us to focus on something besides sex," Remus muttered through gritted teeth.

"She's going to assume she did something wrong," Sirius warned him. Hermione, for all her intellect, tended to jump to conclusions. He blamed Harry’s influence for that.

"So show her she didn't," Remus told him, walking in to lay the parchment he'd scribbled on downstairs on her nightstand. "If we do this right, I guarantee you'll be happy with the results."

"And if we screw it up?"

"Then we go back to shagging her until she's happy. It's a win-win situation."

Sirius liked those odds.

* * *

 

Hermione opened her eyes just after 7 a.m., her internal alarm clock as loud as ever. She rolled over, expecting to crash into a warm body, but all she encountered was cool bed sheets. Sitting up, she looked around her bedroom, but there was no sign that either man joined her last night. She buried the bubble of panic, not worried they spent their night with another woman, but that something bad happened. The war ended years ago. There were no more Death Eaters. Even Lucius Malfoy was somewhat of a kind person these days, serving on several charitable boards with Sirius. Maybe they crashed at Harry's house. He hated when Ginny was away.

She pushed back the covers, her legs swinging to the ground when the parchment with Remus' handwriting caught her eye.

_You were sound asleep. We didn't want to disturb you. – Remus_

Well, that was sweet. A little annoying, as she had promised Sirius they could play when he got home, but it wouldn't kill them to go a night without sex. Prior to Saturday, she had gone nearly three months without sex. She'd live.

* * *

 

Sirius flipped through _The Daily Prophet_ , glaring at the picture of Marcus Flint on the front of the sports section. What did Hermione see in him? He peered closer, noting that he had the same solid build as Viktor Krum – and the same vacant expression.

" _Incendio_ ," he mumbled, feeling slightly better as the section went up in flames. He used his wand to send the ashes to the fireplace seconds before Hermione walked in, looking beautiful and fresh in a bright blue short-sleeved dress with a wide yellow belt around her waist and matching heels on her feet. Gods, he loved how her legs looked in heels. He made a mental note that the next time he had her under him, she'd be wearing those shoes.

"Good morning," she said brightly after kissing the side of his neck just below his ear. She sniffed the air. "Is something burning? Did you try to make eggs?"

"I went to the bakery," he smirked, lifting the plate he'd hidden on the chair next to him and placing it on the table, noting how her eyes turned molten as she stared at the cinnamon roll sitting in the middle of the white dish. Hermione had a weakness for breakfast pastries. The cinnamon rolls at the bakery near their home were a particular favorite, though she rarely indulged.

"What's the occasion?" She poured herself a cup of coffee, topping off his before taking her seat.

"No occasion," he smiled, lifting her hand to his lips, flipping it over to kiss the inside of her wrist. "I just thought you'd enjoy a treat."

The look she gave him was suspicious mixed with appreciation, though suspicious seemed to carry more weight. Perhaps Remus and Harry were right. If buying Hermione her favorite breakfast food aroused skepticism, it was obvious the woman needed more unexpected thoughtful moments in her life.

"Am I sharing?" She took the fork he handed her with a smile, cutting into the flaky pastry dripping with warm frosting.

"I did walk to the bakery." And had a cinnamon roll of his own on the walk home, but she didn't need to know that.

She held out the fork and he brought his mouth forward to take the bite she offered. "Gods," she moaned, taking a bite of her own. "So good!"

Sirius shifted, trying not to remember the last time she was moaning about something being good in the kitchen, she was topless and he had his hands on her. Opening his mouth, he accepted another bite, then turned back to the newspaper, focusing on an article about a new broom law to take his mind off of a frosting covered Hermione.

"Do you have a busy day?" Hermione asked, licking a stray bit of frosting from her lips.

"A board meeting this morning."

"Which one?"

"The orphanage."

Hermione smiled. After the war ended, Sirius spent a year celebrating his return to society in an alcoholic daze that included late nights, cigarettes and questionable bed partners before deciding to do something meaningful with his life. It was Harry who suggested starting a foundation, but Sirius refused to attach the Black family name to anything – even something that would have a positive influence on the world. Instead, he set out to support any charity, organization or cause his ancestors would have hated. A particular favorite was funding Hogwarts scholarships for Muggleborns and half-bloods. He also had a soft spot for the children at the orphanage who lost their family in the war, serving on the board and funding a fair percentage of its operation. He refused his family's seat in the Wizengamot, but was an active voice when it came to overturning laws that were passed during the height of the Ministry of Magic's corruption.

"Tell Narcissa I said hello." Despite the history she had with the Malfoy family, Hermione liked Narcissa Malfoy. The woman had a wicked sense of humor once you got to know her.

"No," he grunted.

Hermione looked up. "Why? You like your cousin."

"Because when I tell her you say hello, I have to listen to her talk about eligible wizards she'd like to introduce to you. Gods, woman, if you hadn't introduced Luna to Malfoy, you'd likely be engaged to the Slytherin prince!"

Hermione considered his outburst. She knew Narcissa had a matchmaking gene rivaled only by Molly Weasley, but she never thought the pureblood witch would consider her personal life of interest.

The kitchen door swung open before she could respond. Remus walked in, his eyes still partially closed. Not even bothering to walk to the counter to pour his own coffee, he picked up Hermione's cup and drained it, kissing her cheek in apology before taking her mug to the coffeepot for a refill and fixing his own. "Need a topper, Padfoot?"

"No, thanks."

Remus shuffled back to the table, settling in the chair next to Hermione, blowing on the hot liquid before sipping it reverently. He only allowed himself one cup of coffee a day, saying too much caffeine made the wolf jumpy, but he got around his self-imposed rule by stealing Hermione's coffee most mornings. "Cinnamon roll?" he eyed the pastry hungrily, opening his mouth when Hermione offered him a bite, forgoing the fork and taking it from her hand instead, his mouth slowly licking the frosting from her fingers. "What's the occasion?"

"Sirius decided to be the sweetest man in the world this morning," Hermione smiled at the Animagus who smirked at the werewolf.

"Did he now?" Remus murmured, knowing how much Hermione coveted these cinnamon rolls.

Hermione slid the plate with the rest of the pastry in front of Remus and pushed away from the table, leaning over to kiss the werewolf goodbye before walking over to Sirius. "Thank you again," she whispered before pressing her lips to his, deepening the kiss just slightly, her tongue darting out to lick away a bit of frosting at the corner of his lips.

"Top that, Moony," Sirius challenged after Hermione flooed to her office.

Remus gave him the finger as he chewed the last bit of Hermione's breakfast and considered his options.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"I didn't say anything."

"I can see you arguing with yourself. Spill it. We're on the same side in this."

"Fine," he caved. "I want to send Hermione flowers, but I know Pansy and Luna will have questions if I have them delivered to the office. I don't want to put her in a situation where she's uncomfortable."

"Why would she be uncomfortable?"

"Because they'll want to know why I'm sending her flowers."

"Probably because you're sleeping with her."

"But they don't know that."

Sirius burst out laughing. "You honestly believe they don't know what happened between us last weekend? Remus, they knew she wanted us before we knew she wanted us!"

"What? How do you know that?"

"How do you not know that?" Sirius was incredulous. "Moony, women talk. They talk a hell of a lot more than men and they talk about _everything_. I'm willing to bet Pansy and Luna knows which one of us shagged her first and what it's like when we're shagging her. There's probably something each one of us does that Hermione loves and _they_ know what it is."

Remus looked uncomfortable. "But we … we would never … oh, Gods. I used to be their teacher."

"You used to be Hermione's too, and that hasn't stopped you from fucking her six ways –"

"Stop, please," Remus groaned, putting his head on the table. "Why did I not know this?"

"Because we've never been in this situation before. When guys talk, we talk about women we don't care about. Birds picked up in bars, one-offs – incidents that meant nothing. We don't talk about the women we have a relationship with; that's off-limits."

"And women don't have these rules?"

"Everything is an open book for them," Sirius confirmed. "But, bright side, now you can send the flowers knowing they'll be fawned over by three witches, two of whom have considerable influence over Hermione."

"That's just great," Remus muttered.

* * *

 

The flowers arrived just before lunch, two dozen daisies wrapped in tissue paper. The card said: Thinking of you; Remus.

"Well played, professor," Pansy murmured as Hermione buried her face in the cheery blossoms. "He could have gone for something a bit more exotic, but I suppose simple works."

"No, these are perfect." Hermione dumped a cup full of quills on her desk and transfigured it into a vase, arranging the joyful blooms with a besotted look on her face. "I love daisies."

"Why?" Pansy asked. "They're common."

"Daisies are the symbol of purity, innocence, loyal love, beauty, patience and simplicity," Hermione informed her.

"Hmm … I guess you hit three of the six," she joked, ducking when Hermione flicked water in her direction.

"They're also difficult to control," Luna piped up. "When you plant daisies in a garden, they like to spread until they overwhelm the other flowers."

"Now that sounds like you," Pansy told Hermione, who stuck her tongue out before leaning against her desk, a pensive look on her face as she studied the arrangement. "What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I don't know … I told you about Sirius buying my favorite breakfast this morning and now Remus is sending me flowers. What are they up to?"

"Maybe they're just being nice," Pansy suggested.

"You, a Slytherin, do not think they have an ulterior motive?"

"Hell no, I know they have an ulterior motive; _I_ was just trying to be nice." She leaned forward, eyes narrowed as she considered the situation. "Did you have an argument?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Did they ask you to do something you didn't want to do?"

"Not yet."

Pansy raised a brow and promised herself she'd bring that up for conversation another time. "Do they have anything to feel guilty about?"

Hermione considered that. "Well, we were in the middle of something yesterday when Harry came over."

"Dammit Harry!" Pansy yelled. "But that's probably not it. If anything, Harry should be buying you breakfast and sending you flowers."

"I think they're trying to seduce you," Luna murmured thoughtfully.

Both Hermione and Pansy turned to look at the witch who was twirling a piece of hair around her finger.

"Why would they need to seduce her?" Pansy asked. "They had her!"

"Hey!" Hermione cried. "Don't make me sound like a slag."

"You know what I mean," Pansy backtracked. "You spent most the weekend rolling around the sheets with them. The breakfast and the flowers didn't happen yesterday, so they have nothing to do with sex."

"But you did say that the three of you agreed this weekend was more than sex and that you would try dating," Luna emphasized. "Maybe this is their way of showing you they mean it."

"It always scares me when you're the voice of reason," Pansy said to Luna, who accepted the statement without care.

Hermione considered Luna's thoughts in-between patients that afternoon, the flowers a constant reminder of Remus as she updated files at her desk. Romance had never been a part of her life. Yes, she read the occasional romance novel and loved romantic comedies, but she didn't see herself as a woman who needed a large-scale production when it came to love. Her wants, her needs, were simple. Loyalty. Support. Companionship. If a man could offer her that, she'd be satisfied.

But she wasn't dealing with one man. She was dealing with two. Two older, experienced wizards who had nearly two decades on her, not to mention 30 years of friendship. In their trio, she was the outsider. Remus and Sirius knew things about each other that she might never learn, not that she needed to know every one of their secrets. One of the reasons she cared about each man was their unquestionable loyalty to each other. She remembered how Remus kept Sirius stable when he first got out of Azkaban and the first time she saw Sirius resting in the kitchen after spending a night in the basement with Moony, his arms covered in cuts and bruises.

_"No need to fuss, princess," he grunted when she cleaned the worst of the cuts, using Essence of Dittany to prevent scarring. "Some months are worse than others."_

_"Why?"_

_He shrugged, not wanting to tell her that being a wanted man meant he couldn't go with Remus to pick up random women to screw before the full moon._

"Still pondering?" Pansy poked her head around the door.

"I'm not sure how to handle this."

"I'd enjoy it," Pansy advised. "There's nothing wrong with being made to feel special. If this is something they feel they need to do, let them."

"But should I reciprocate?'

Pansy snorted. "If you need me to tell you how to thank them, then I better floo Ron to tell him I'll be late."

"Go; I'm perfectly capable of handling this," Hermione regretted her choice of words when Pansy started laughing, though she couldn't help but giggle, too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People are always eating in my stories. It makes me hungry.

The house was quiet when Remus got home. Sirius had stopped by his office that afternoon looking like a crazed man, which wasn't unusual considering he spent the better part of the morning with his cousin.

"I need to get out," he grumbled, pacing Remus' office in the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. "Do something to shake off this itch."

"Understandable," Remus murmured, his focus on the petition for a policy change he promised to have on Kingsley's desk by the end of the week.

"Or I could swing by Hermione's office," the dark-haired wizard suggested.

"No." Remus didn't both looking up from the parchment he was marking.

Sirius moved a pile of files from the chair closest to Remus' desk and sat, the makings of a pout on his face, though he would deny it to his dying breath. "Why?"

"One day of romantic gestures isn't enough."

"How do you know? Maybe she's overwhelmed. Or maybe she's so affected; she wants to jump us the minute she gets home. What do we do then?"

"That's just sad," Remus remarked. "Is romance really so rare that two simple acts constitutes enough effort? Is Hermione only worth a cinnamon roll and a few flowers? Does she not deserve two wizards willing to show her how much they care, that they want to be everything she wants and needs before she even knows what that is? Shouldn't two men who claim to want a real relationship be willing to forgo the physical aspect so they can connect with their intended on an emotional level?"

Sirius glared at his friend. Remus didn't spout speeches often, but when he did, he was right. Bastard. "I hate you sometimes."

"I know."

He stalked to the door. "I'm going for a ride. I'll bring home dinner."

"Fine. Do you need me to do anything?"

"We're having a fucking picnic in the backyard, so do whatever a romantic picnic looks like." Sirius made sure to slam the door when he left.

* * *

Hermione wanted three things when she got home: a warm bath, a glass of wine, and someone to hold her and say everything would be all right. She enjoyed her job most days. Mental health care was relatively new to the wizarding world. She and her friends were the first to try to incorporate Muggles' counseling to wizarding practices. Following the war, a large portion of their population was suffering post-traumatic stress disorder, depression, and grief – issues that could not be fixed with spells or potions.

Hermione initially enrolled in a healer apprenticeship after Hogwarts, but when she learned her training didn't mental issues, she elected to attend Muggle University to gain the knowledge and credentials needed to offer therapy to wizards and witches. Her commitment to the healer program meant she couldn't attend University full-time, so she scheduled classes around her training and, eventually, the practice she opened with Pansy and Luna. Being purebloods, they had the wizarding understanding that she, as a Muggle-born, didn't - no matter how many books she read. The three worked well together and there were days she felt they were truly making a difference.

And then there were days like today. For every person she and her friends helped, there were others convinced the witches were using Dark Magic to brainwash the public. She had to constantly defend herself and her practice against those who refused to acknowledge new ways of doing things. Some days she was up to the challenge and others …

"Rough day?"

Hermione looked up from her sprawl on the sofa at Remus leaning in the doorway. He looked like he'd been home for a bit, his work robes gone as he studied her wearing what she considered his casual Remus outfit – worn jeans with ragged hems and a rip in the knee and an untucked plaid button-down shirt. His feet were bare; being a werewolf, he was usually several degrees warmer than most people, something Hermione loved when the weather was cool. Remus was always kind about allowing her to snuggle next to him when reading, watching the telly or simply being together.

"Does it show?"

He walked into the room, taking a seat on the far end of the couch and lifting her feet in his lap. He removed her heels, setting the yellow shoes on the floor before rubbing her small feet with his large, warm hands.

"Mmm …" she sighed, eyes closing as she leaned against the arm of the couch. "You're my favorite person. Have I told you that?"

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I heard you say something similar to Sirius when he brought you a tub of coffee-flavored ice cream."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him innocently. "May I have two favorite people?"

"Only if I'm one and Sirius is the other."

"Deal," she replied on a sigh, stretching languidly so her back arched, the fabric of her dress pulling tightly across her chest.

Remus looked away, shifting his focus on kneading the ache from her arches, though the sighs and whimpers she made under his careful administrations were extremely distracting. He'd learned that weekend that she made the same sounds when he touched her, his finger sliding into her as he slowly pumped his digit in and out of her warm body. His eyes slid to the hem of her blue dress, which had shifted to just slightly above her knees. It would be so easy to slide his hand up her leg. She wouldn't protest. He could smell her excitement. He didn't need to be near the full moon to know how much she desired him.

"Remus?"

"Hmm?"

"My feet feel so much better."

"I'm glad."

"But now there's another part of me that aches."

 _Shit_.

* * *

Sirius had an obsession with pizza. Hermione said he had the culinary palate of an adolescent, but he noted she rarely complained when he brought pizza home on the nights he was responsible for dinner. He was adventurous with his toppings, willing to try anything once, often electing to build his own pie, resulting in some combinations that, in hindsight, weren't a great idea. Remus wasn't as daring, but he would occasionally try something different while Hermione stuck with vegetarian. Balancing one large pizza and one small on a motorcycle wasn't easy, but that's why sticking charms were invented.

"Pizza again?"

Sirius handed the boxes to Remus and got off of his bike, patting the leather seat affectionately. "Does it not fall under the Remus Lupin list of romantic foods? Should I have gotten oysters instead?"

Remus carried the boxes to the middle of the backyard that Hermione, with extensive help from Neville Longbottom, had transformed into an outdoor living space she said could grace the cover of a Muggle magazine. Flowers surrounded the wood fence. A tire swing hung from the large maple tree and Hermione insisted a hammock would be the perfect addition to the oak trees. A picnic table sat near the back porch, but Remus ignored it, spreading a patchwork quilt on the grass in the middle of the yard, charming a dozen candles to float overhead. A bottle of wine and glasses completed the scene.

"Nice," Sirius remarked. "Wine. Candles. All that's missing is the girl."

"You should get her," Remus told him, kneeling on the blanket, his attention focused on the wine.

"What happened?"

"She's not happy with me at the moment."

"What happened?"

Remus sighed. "I gave her a foot rub and she tried to make it something more."

"That's a good trick," Sirius chuckled. "I've tried it once or twice myself."

"For the record, its bad form to brag about past exploits in front of the woman you're pursuing."

"It's also bad form to turn down said woman when she wants to exploit you," Sirius baited, pleased with the frustrated look on Remus' face. Their witch had a hair-trigger temper. It was one of the things he adored about her. "Never fear, Moony; I'll go and smooth things over. Be prepared to grovel."

* * *

Hermione nibbled on her thumbnail, glad Pansy wasn't there. The last time she caught Hermione biting her nails, she cast a spell that made them taste like liverwurst. She wouldn't have minded so much had they not smelled like it, too.

"Princess?" Sirius poked his head around the door, smiling at the woman sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed, looking anxious and irritated. "Dinner is ready."

"I'm not hungry."

Pouting. Hermione also was an excellent pouter.

"I brought pizza," he cajoled, walking in to join her on the bed, his back against the headboard.

"Surprise, surprise."

That tone was unhappy. He couldn't handle unhappy Hermione. Angry Hermione was sexy. Happy Hermione was fun. Drunk Hermione was extremely entertaining and, as it turns out, wanton. But sad Hermione made Sirius feel helpless. He hated that. "What's the matter?" He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She curled against his side, her head on his chest.

"It was a bad day."

"Even with the cinnamon roll?"

She smiled slightly. "The cinnamon roll was my favorite part. Oh, and Remus sent me flowers, which was sweet, but then Cranfield Nott stopped by …"

She trailed off, but Sirius didn't need to hear more. Nott was someone who should worship the ground Hermione walked on. Had it not been for her, Theo Nott would still be a shell of a man who spent his days attempting to kill himself by overindulging in firewhiskey, unable to cope with the horrors he saw as a Death Eater-in-training. Mandatory therapy with Hermione was Theo's last shot before serving a stint in Azkaban. Kingsley Shacklebolt approached her nearly a year ago to encourage her to take him on as a client.

_"He doesn't deserve Azkaban, Hermione, but the Wizengamot has exhausted all other avenues."_

_"I don't know if I'm ready," she protested. "There's still so much I need to learn and –"_

_"Then listen. You've always been great at that."_

_And that's what she did. For an hour a day, three days a week, she sat with Theo in a conference room at the Ministry of Magic and waited for him to talk. When he did, after nearly two weeks of silence, she listened. She didn't interrupt. She didn't make excuses. She didn't condemn. She listened and when he said everything he needed to say, he broke down. Het let him cry, let him scream and let him rant before she shifted his focus to building himself up again. She knew she would never be able to help him find a way to help him make sense of the war, but she could help him learn to cope so he could move forward._

_Theo still visited her every Wednesday afternoon for an hour. He had stopped drinking and enrolled in a wizarding university to pursue law. His father, though, believed he was under the ImperiusCurse. He'd prefer that then admit a Muggle-born helped his son where pureblood healers could not._

"What did he do?"

"The same litany of threats, accusations. That I can handle, but the youngest Bones girl was waiting to see Luna and he scared her. She fears Death Eaters will snatch her any time she's away from her family – waiting by herself to see Luna was a huge breakthrough – and now …" she shrugged half-heartedly, remembering how dejected Luna looked as she watched the little girl clutch her mother's hand as they left the office.

"You should report him to the aurors, Hermione."

"He hasn't done anything to hurt us."

"He's a Death Eater –"

"Former."

"– who threatens you and your colleagues," Sirius said fiercely, his gray eyes flashing with anger. "You need to tell Harry." She wrapped her arms around Sirius and hugged him. The surprised wizard hesitated a second before returning her affections. "Not that I don't like this, but this is usually the part where you tell me you can take care of yourself and throw something."

She chuckled because it was true. She hated being told what to do, especially when what she was being told to do made sense. "I needed someone to talk to more than I needed to yell," she told him, breathing in the scent of engine grease and tobacco as she rubbed her cheek against his cotton T-shirt. "Thank you for listening, and for being here."

"I'm an excellent hugger."

"I've heard rumors," she laughed, pushing herself away from him, looking happier than she had moments before. "You said something about pizza?"

"Guess what I did?" He jumped off the bed and tugged her beside him, keeping her hand tucked in his as they left her room.

"This is always a frightening game, Sirius."

"Macaroni and cheese! They put macaroni and cheese on the pizza. Is that not the greatest invention ever?"

Hermione could feel her arteries clog at the thought.

* * *

Hermione reached over to steal a piece of macaroni and cheese from Remus' pizza, licking her fingers after popping the cheesy pasta in her mouth.

"Told you," Sirius smirked, noting that Hermione only had one piece of her vegetarian pizza and though she refused to take a piece of their macaroni and cheese concoction, she had snagged enough bites from him and Remus to warrant a full piece.

"Hmm." She was non-committal as she stretched out on the blanket, her head on Sirius' thigh as she watched the candles float above them, feeling like she was in Hogwarts' Great Hall staring at the enchanted ceiling. "Thank you for dinner," she murmured, feeling a tingle go down her spine when his fingers brushed through her curls.

"You're welcome."

She turned her head to smile at Remus. "I didn't say thank you for the flowers earlier. I loved them."

The look he gave her in return … she didn't know how to describe it. Indulgent? Caring? Gentle? She'd worried that when he sidestepped her earlier advances by claiming he needed to owl Kingsley that he was losing interest in her, that the flowers were the first step in a campaign to let her down easy, but maybe not. A man looking to step back from a woman wouldn't be smiling at her the way he was. A man who was afraid of getting in too deep wouldn't lay his head on her stomach, practically purring as she ran her fingers through his sandy brown hair.

They lay in compatible silence, watching the candles until Remus extinguished them with the flick of his wrist so they could see the night sky light up with stars. Hermione felt relaxed. She felt cherished.

She felt loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

"You can't use magic." Hermione reminded Sirius, secretly loving the look he gave her when he didn't get his way. No man should look sexy when he pouts, but he managed to pull it off, along with a dash of adorableness she knew he used to his advantage. She always told herself she would not fall for his charms, yet here she was, one arm around his waist, smiling up at him like hundreds of witches before her. Brightest witch her age? Ha! She was as big of sucker for a sexy smirk and a wink as the next girl.

"What's the point then?" Sirius grumbled, watching as the teenage boy in front of him managed to knock the wooden milk canisters off the raised platform on his first try, the girl by his side squealing in delight as she kissed him.

"That," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Scared?" Remus gave Sirius a look, knowing his friend had never learned to ignore a challenge. That and the oversized stuffed wolf Hermione had tucked in the large canvas bag on her shoulder – Remus' prize at the Strongman booth – was enough to make Sirius plunk several paper bills on the wooden counter.

"Three attempts," the cheerful man wearing a bright orange shirt and a broad smile chirped as he placed three tennis balls in front of Sirius. "Knock the canisters off the platform, you choose your prize. If you knock them down, but they remain on the platform, well … it looks like the little miss already has one animal in her possession."

Hermione smirked at Sirius' growl in response, knowing he wanted to tell the worker she had two animals in her possession. She watched as he threw the first ball, knocking the milk canisters over, but none fell off the platform.

"I hope we have enough money," Remus murmured as Sirius shrugged out of his black leather jacket, handing it to her before shifting his stance. He threw the second ball, managing to knock two canisters off the platform. Hermione murmured something to Remus in response, but was too busy ogling the muscles that rippled underneath Sirius black T-shirt as he threw the third ball to ensure it was something intelligent. She needed to feel those muscles under her hands. She needed to touch, to knead, to scratch. She needed Remus' heat, his teeth, and his demands. Hermione had no idea that when the three of them agreed to try dating that Remus and Sirius would take it to mean less sex and more romance. There was still touching and kissing and hugging, but neither one made an effort to go beyond that. When she tried to force their hand, to remind them that they agreed dating included shagging, they made excuses. If she hadn't overheard Sirius shouting her name as he wanked off in the shower more mornings than she cared to admit, she'd be concerned. If Remus hadn't made a habit of flooing to the Ministry, only to immediately return to kiss her goodbye a second time, she'd be apprehensive. If flower deliveries at the office weren't becoming a regular afternoon occurrence, she'd be alarmed.

_"Snapdragons today," Luna handed the bouquet of crimson and white blossoms to Hermione before levitating the second bouquet from their waiting area to Pansy, smiling at the Slytherin witch's delighted laugh. Pansy let it slip to Ron that Hermione was being showered with blossoms, knowing his innate jealous streak would result in bouquets for her, too. Luna didn't want to tell her friends how Draco responded to the information. Hermione was suffering enough as it was._

_"Why did you tell him?" Hermione glared at Pansy even though the brunette was too busy burying her face in an armful of rainbow-colored tulips to notice._

_"I didn't say who was sending you flowers."_

_Hermione rolled her eyes. "But he'll want to know! You can't just say 'Hermione's getting flowers every day at work' and not expect Ron to wonder why."_

_Pansy snorted. Hermione still believed she knew her husband. Why he may have considered his former girlfriend's dating life his business in the past, that was a long time ago. Now she was the witch who consumed his thoughts and if they happened to stray to territory best left alone, she knew how to distract him._

_"You worry too much," Pansy told Hermione. "Ron knows nothing and will continue to know nothing until we say otherwise, so stop thinking about him and start thinking about what you are going to do this weekend. All three of you will be home, yes?"_

This was their first weekend together since that fateful Friday night two weeks ago. A three-day seminar on the narrative approach to trauma meant Hermione spent last weekend at a stuffy hotel conference room in Leeds with Muggle counselors instead of Grimmauld Place. She had hoped her return Sunday night would be met with lips and teeth and tongues, but she settled for one of the three, as it included a lovely massage followed by a candlelit bubble bath – albeit a solitary bath – and wine.

The next five days were more of the same. On Monday, Sirius brought home a container of clotted cream ice cream and sugar wafers, which the three shared while watching television. Tuesday, Remus was waiting for her after work and accompanied her on the errands she didn't get to that weekend. On Wednesday, the three of them attended a Pub Quiz at a Muggle bar; something neither wizard had done before, but knew Hermione enjoyed doing with Harry and Ron. Remus worked late on Thursday, so Sirius took Hermione out on his motorcycle – which she agreed to only when he promised to stay on the ground. They ended up at a hole-in-the-wall diner that served amazing shepherd's pie, the two of them talking and laughing until a waitress asked them to leave nearly 30 minutes past closing. Hermione didn't work Friday, so she decided to turn the tables and surprised Sirius by bringing him breakfast-in-bed before flooing to the Ministry to take Remus out to lunch. She went out with Pansy and Luna that night – the girls had a long-standing tradition of spending Friday nights together; a holdover from when spending too much time alone post-war led to anxiety and depression – coming home late to a quiet house.

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the romantic gestures. While the first few left her feeling off-balanced, wanting to know what her wizards weren't saying as they gifted her with the little things that meant more than grand gestures – Remus even managed to make going to the supermarket entertaining – she grew comfortable with the attention. Still, it wasn't necessary. She knew they cared about her. She knew she cared about them. She didn't need late-night picnics and flowers to be secure in their feelings, though she kept every note they'd slipped in her luggage last weekend.

Hermione woke that Saturday morning determined to find a way to push Remus and Sirius out of the tender habits they'd grown attached to and back to the carnal shagging she remembered, but then an owl arrived from Molly Weasley, inviting everyone to the Burrow for an impromptu lunch that somehow turned into dinner before evolving into a late night of drinking games led by Fred and George. Hermione woke in her bed not knowing how she got there, but was thankful to whoever changed her into a cotton T-shirt and left a hangover potion on her nightstand.

She wandered downstairs after her shower, resolved to throw herself at the first wizard she came across, but was greeted in the kitchen by Harry and though she loved him, he was not the wizard she wanted to ravish. Instead, she joined him – and Remus and Sirius – for a leisurely breakfast before Harry thanked them for their assistance the night before and flooed home. Not wanting to delay her plans to find out what he was talking about; Hermione opened her mouth, but was cut off by Remus, who pushed a copy of a paper flyer across the table.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Chestnut Sunday at Bushy Park," Remus informed her. "Interested?"

Hermione vaguely recalled mentioning the annual event to Remus months earlier, but that was when she wanted to go with her friend, not her lover. She opened her mouth to tell him, but then Sirius walked into the kitchen after walking Harry to the study in the floo talking about carnival rides. He was bouncing on his heels as he recalled the Ferris Wheel Lily had taken them on sixth year, looking very much like a child waiting for his parents to finish breakfast so they could leave. Not wanting to be the one to wipe the smile from his face, to excused herself to go upstairs and change, settling on jeans, a sunset yellow camisole and an oversized beige cardigan. She quickly braided her hair and slid on beige Chuck Taylors, tossing the essentials into an oversized canvas tote before meeting Remus and Sirius at the front door.

"I'm trying again." Sirius' grumbling pulled Hermione from her thoughts. She watched as he handed a fistful of money to the man whose grin looked less cheery and more scheming.

"Sirius, its fine," Hermione pulled on his arm. "Let's visit another booth."

He scowled at her, looking pointedly at her hand on his arm until she removed it. Stepping back, she shook her head as Sirius managed not to hit anything on the next throw, leaning into Remus' body as he wrapped his arm around her.

"He's so stubborn," she muttered to Remus who chuckled in response.

"You have no idea."

* * *

 

Sirius refused to tell them how much money he spent at that booth before winning the miniature stuffed black dog he handed to Hermione with a flourish. She rewarded his perseverance by imitating the teenage girl they saw earlier, jumping into his arms and pressing kisses all over his face, their antics ignored by the crowd thanks to the Notice-Me-Not charm Remus was quick to cast.

"I don't recall such enthusiasm when I won," he reminded her, smirking as she leapt from Sirius' arms to his, repeating her behavior.

"Do you both feel properly thanked?" she joked, pressing one last kiss to the tip of Remus' nose before stepping back. "Everyone's ego is in check? No manhood left questioned?"

"It was never a question of manhood, princess," Sirius took her hand as Remus canceled the charm, the three of them continuing down the line of booths, the shrieks of excitement and groans of disappointment filling the air. "My game was much tougher than Moony's."

"Excuse me?" Remus questioned.

"Strongman?" Sirius shot back. "You're a werewolf, Moony. Of course you'd excel at something that centered on physical strength. My game was a test of skill."

"You threw a ball," Remus deadpanned.

"I had to hit things," Sirius continued.

"I can hit something if you insist," Remus told him.

"You think so?"

Hermione wasn't sure when they conversation shifted from teasing to challenging as she stood between the two wizards, both glaring at the other. She glanced around for something to distract them. "There!" she cried, pointing to a booth three stalls down.

"What?" Remus asked, not bothering to look.

"The ring toss," Hermione took each man by the hand and pulled them with her to the booth. "We'll each play. Whoever gets the most rings around the bottles wins."

"What do we win?" Sirius asked, handing over enough bills to secure 10 plastic rings for each of them – red for Hermione, blue for Remus and black for him.

Hermione considered the question, noting the children around her made the first response that popped in her head not a wise choice. "The winner will receive something to be determined at a later date."

"That's vague enough to be intriguing," Remus strolled to the other side of the booth. "Everyone ready?"

"Same rules as before," Hermione reminded both, looking at them pointedly before they nodded.

No magic.

Hermione wasn't an athlete. Her parents enrolled her in dance lessons when she was little, but she quit after a terrible case of stage fright just before her first recital. That one experience was her lone attempt at anything resembling a sport, Quidditch being the only option at Hogwarts. Still, it didn't take much in physical skill to toss a plastic ring around a glass bottle. That's what she told herself when she tossed the first ring, which barely cleared the counter. Ignoring Sirius' snort, she threw the next one harder, nearly hitting Remus who looked at her with amusement.

She tried two more time the Muggle way, getting closer in her attempts, but by then both Remus and Sirius had managed to secure two rings to bottles. When the little girl next to her started crying because she dropped her ice cream cone, Hermione used the distraction to mumble a quick accuracy spell under her breath before tossing three rings in quick succession, each one hitting the desired target. Sirius was too busy focusing on his rings to pay attention, stepping back in triumph when his last one spun around a glass bottle.

"That's five!" he shouted.

"Same. Five," Remus replied.

With both sets of eyes on her, Hermione knew she couldn't risk magic again. Three wasn't bad. If she didn't manage to make another, she told herself she could take comfort that she managed that, though her competitive instincts wanted more.

"You used magic didn't you?" Remus asked under his breath as Hermione was awarded her choice of stuffed animals after getting six rings around the bottled. She quickly chose the extremely gaudy hot pink unicorn with a sparkling tiara.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sniffed, kneeling next to the little girl still sniffling over her ice cream. "I think this unicorn needs a friend," she told her, holding out the animal, smiling at the blue eyes that lit up when they landed on the plush toy. "Do you think you could take care of her?"

"Yes!" she cried, grabbing it from Hermione as if she was afraid she'd change her mind, hugging it tightly.

"That's so nice of you," the woman standing with the little girl said. "Melody, what do you say?"

"Thank you," the girl beamed. She planted a sticky kiss on Hermione's cheek, her enthusiasm nearly knocking the witch over.

"You're very welcome," Hermione smiled, not bothering to wipe her face. "What are you going to name her?"

Melody didn't hesitate. "Frank!"

* * *

 

"No offense, princess, but if you name my dog Frank, I'm taking him back," Sirius told Hermione as they walked to the apparition point.

"Your dog?" Hermione grinned as she pulled the stuffed dog from her bag. "I believe this incredible reward for skill and tenacity was given to me, therefore I shall name him as I see fit."

"How about Tiny?" Remus suggested with an evil grin.

"Sod off," Sirius punched his friend in the arm. "What'll you name the wolf? Cuddles?"

The head of the stuffed wolf stuck out of Hermione's bag, the plush toy too large to fully fit without an extendable charm, something that filled Remus with pride, as inane as it might be. He didn't miss the way Hermione's eyes were glued to him as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt before taking the mallet in his hands. He was fairly certain he heard her whimper as he raised it over his head, though the crowd made that difficult to prove.

He knew Sirius wanted to put an end to their no-shagging respite. To be honest, he was ready to call it quits the night of their picnic in the backyard and might have had Hermione not fallen asleep. He told himself the reason he didn't give in, or allow Sirius to talk him to giving in, was so that they could shower Hermione with the affection she deserved, but he was enjoying the experience, too. He'd never been in the position to romance a witch before. Every physical experience he'd had with a woman until Hermione was just that – physical. Sex was a release. He was considerate with his partners, but never romantic. Even at Hogwarts, he was too afraid of the wolf to allow himself feel anything for the girls he bedded. Sending Hermione flowers, playing with her hair as they watched television, holding her hand as they strolled through the park – he had no idea how much it would mean to him to be the one who got to do that with her and for her. When she showed up at his office to take him to lunch, he actually felt his heart turn over.

"Good call, Moony." Remus looked over as Sirius walked into the library, two glasses of firewhiskey in his hands. He passed one to Remus, then settled on the sofa next to him, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "I overheard Hermione gushing about her prizes to Pansy."

"You eavesdropped on her floo call?" Remus asked, though he wasn't surprised.

"Kind of hard not to the way she was talking," Sirius took a sip of his drink before he leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to get the picture of Hermione kneeling in front of the fireplace in her room out of his head. Her ass looked amazing in jeans. "I heard Pansy's shriek when I was on the stairs."

Remus shook his head and went back to his book. Sirius watched him for a minute, wondering if he'd given any thought to the approaching full moon. They hadn't discussed how they would handle it with Hermione. Knowing Remus, he'd suggest forgoing their usual physical preparations for fear of scaring her off. If Hermione thought Remus was domineering before, she had no idea what was lurking beneath the surface.

She could handle it; of that, he had no doubt. She was a strong woman, a strong witch, and the way she responded to them went beyond anything he imagined or hoped for. Had they not been so focused on wooing Hermione the last two weeks, they could have prepared her for the full moon. If Remus needed to sit this one out, Sirius wouldn't push him, but if they were earnest in their feelings for Hermione, it couldn't be avoided forever. Remus handled the transformations better when Moony got the chance to play. Hermione was the witch they wanted in their lives, therefore she would be the witch they turned to in the days before the full moon rose.

It was as simple as that.

* * *

 

Hermione read over her notes from her last session. Despite attending Hogwarts at the same time, she didn't know Millicent Bulstrode that well, aside from their physical altercation during dueling club second year and later turning into a human version of her cat. Millicent apologized for her aggression at the start of their first session. Hermione elected not to share the Polyjuice incident with her. That knowledge wouldn't help Millicent sleep at night.

"Give me five more minutes," Hermione said in response of the knocking on the side of door, not bothering to look up as she wrote a comment at the bottom of the report. It was nearly noon and she knew Pansy got grumpy if had to wait for a meal. She was a lot like Ron in that regard. "Why don't you decide where we're going to eat and I'll meet you there?"

"Works for me, kitten, only you haven't asked me to lunch yet."

Hermione's head came up, her lips spreading into a smile as she took in the image of Marcus Flint leaning against her door jam. "Hi, stranger."

He pushed himself away from the door and walked to her desk. "That's all I get? Hi?" Not waiting for a response he pulled her to her feet, his arms going around her as she hugged him close. "That's better," he murmured, resting his head on top of hers. He'd missed her, more than he expected to and more then he'd admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drama! Da, da, dum!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus and Hermione have lunch. That can't be good.

"… so he's doing well. I can't go into details – patient/healer confidentiality – but he's in school, which everyone knows, so it's all right for me to tell you that. Draco visits him often; Blaise and Adrian, too. Pansy tries to check in once a month without making it look like she's checking in, so if you stop by to see him, try to be subtle."

Marcus snorted and took another sip of his coffee. The idea of a Gryffindor telling a Slytherin to be subtle was ridiculous. Case in point: she'd been babbling about Nott for nearly 15 minutes. All he asked was if Nott liked university. She took a breath to order the spinach chicken salad, but picked up her monologue where she left off as soon as the waitress left their table. "Granger," he interrupted.

"What?"

"Shut up."

She huffed, a quick flash of anger in her whiskey-colored eyes before she smirked and lifted her lemonade to her lips, refusing to acknowledge the two words that led to their first date.

_It was the grand opening of Draco's club. Hermione did not want to go, but Pansy insisted, as her friendship with Draco was similar to Hermione's relationship with Harry and Ron._ _"I went with you to their Auror graduation ceremony," Pansy pointed out, her voice muffled as she rummaged through Hermione's closet to find something suitable for the witch to wear._

_"That doesn't count; you're Ron's fiancé."_

_"And who introduced us?"_

_Hermione didn't answer._

_"Exactly." Smug, Pansy walked out of the closet with a black dress. It had long sleeves and hung to Hermione's ankles, but it flattered her curves. A few alterations and it would be perfect._

_"So you're saying I'll meet the man of my dreams tonight?" Hermione's tone was doubtful as she watched Pansy transfigure the dress, taking more than a foot off the hem and turning the long sleeves short._

_"Maybe you'll meet Mr. Right, maybe Mr. Right Now." Pansy glanced over her shoulder. "Does it matter?"_

_Hermione shrugged. She hadn't the best of luck with long-term relationships. She and Ron fizzled out just months of dating, choosing to preserve their friendship while it was still possible. She went on a few dates with Adrian Pucey and while he was pretty to look, they had very little in common to sustain a conversation outside of the bedroom. Her experiences with Blaise Zabini and Dean Thomas weren't much different._

_"Draco said Marcus will be there."_

_"Who?"_

_"Marcus Flint? Quidditch player? He was Slytherin's captain and chaser."_

_Hermione tried to put a face to the name, but came up short. It wasn't until she walked into the private room Draco set aside for special guests that she remembered him. He was one of the Slytherins present the first time Draco called her Mudblood. The memory was enough to make her go out of her way to avoid him. Why she and Draco had established a relationship of sorts, that didn't mean she was ready to exchange friendship rings with every Slytherin in Hogwarts history._

_She didn't know that she caught Marcus' attention nearly the second she walked in, the quiet wizard eyes never straying as she circled the room. He raised an eyebrow when Adrian greeted her with a more-than-friendly kiss, followed by Blaise pulling her to a dark corner for a conversation that had the dark-skinned wizard's face buried in her neck and the curly-haired witch giggling._

_"What do you think, Flint?" Draco threw an arm around his friend as he surveyed the scene._

_"Your new social circle is interesting." He nodded to where Pansy was sitting with Ron and Potter, the Weaslette currently on the dance floor with Hermione and Luna Lovegood._

_"Things change."_

_Marcus watched as Hermione reentered the room, laughing, her eyes bright and her hair wild. She had a slight sheen of perspiration on her chest from the crowded dance floor. She was a small thing, even in three-inch heels. Marcus would tower over her. He normally avoided short women, preferring those he didn't have to bend in half to kiss, but he was willing to make an exception. "That they do," he murmured. "Excuse me."_

_Draco watched as he weaved his way through the room, stopping in front of Granger. He saw her eyes widen, a look of panic cross her face a slit second, before it was replaced with a polite smile. He moved forward, wanting to listen to their conversation, but Blaise shoes that moment to propose a toast to Draco's enterprise. A Malfoy always accepted his due._

_"I don't believe we've met." Marcus spoke gruffly, holding out his hand. "Marcus Flint."_

_She took it automatically. "Hermione Granger and we have met. Not officially, like we're doing right now. You were ahead of me at Hogwarts. Four years, I think? I saw you whenever Gryffindor played Slytherin in Quidditch, not that I'm a huge fan of the game, but Harry played and I wanted to support him, and later Fred and George, Ginny, and Ron. So I knew you from that, of course, but we never talked or anything, though we were involved in an altercation that took place during my second year when your team started fighting Gryffindors and –"_

_"Granger," he interrupted._

_"Yes?"_

_"Shut up."_

_She blinked. "I'm sorry?"_

_"Do you ever stop talking?"_

_He loved how her whole body tensed, her small hands fisted on her hips as she glared at him._

_"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"_

_"Marcus Flint."_

_She walked away, though she could feel his gaze on her for the rest of the night. She ignored his owl the next day and the day after that. She disregarded seven days' worth of communication, confident that the impression she made of him when she was only 13 was the right one. Then she walked out of St. Mungo's only to see him sitting on a concrete bench, wearing jeans and green T-shirt, a clutch of wildflowers in his hands._

_"I'm not apologizing for telling you to shut up," he said in lieu of hello. "You talk more than anyone I know."_

_"You tracked me down to tell me that?"_

_"I tracked you down to take you to dinner." He handed her the flowers. Manners forced Hermione to take them, her eyes going soft as she sniffed the sweet-smelling blooms he stole from his mother's garden. "Turns out I don't like silence as much as I thought."_

_"From what I hear, Marcus Flint is nothing but silent."_

_The look he gave her was pure arrogance. "Checking up on me?"_

_She didn't reply, though she enjoyed dinner more than she expected. He did, too, and the pair found themselves making time for each other when their schedules allowed. Marcus wasn't as quick to take Hermione to bed as the other men she dated, but he made sure the wait was worth it._

"Why are you here?' she asked now. Her Quidditch knowledge was nearly non-existent, but she knew the season would be starting soon. That was one of the reasons she and Marcus called it quits – between practices, games and travel, he was rarely home.

"I missed you."

She smiled at that. Marcus was not one to share his feelings. His admission was similar to another man proposing marriage. "I missed you, too."

"Are you seeing anyone?"

That, too, was Marcus. Slytherins were known for manipulating conversations and actions to get the outcome they desired. Marcus could play the game as well as any pureblood wizard, but he also had a bluntness about him that got right to the point when he deemed it necessary. It was one of the reasons why Hermione liked him. "Why?"

"I don't want to poach on another man's territory."

"Women are not property," she said automatically.

"Fine. I don't want to encroach on your happiness," he exaggerated, noting how she avoided answering the question. "Who is he?"

She twisted the silver ring on her right index finger, something Marcus knew she did when she was nervous. He sat back in his chair and waited. If she was happy, he'd leave her alone. He didn't come to play the heartsick lover. If she wasn't happy … well, that was a different story.

"It's relatively new," she finally said. "We haven't defined it just yet."

"But you're happy? He makes you happy?"

She hesitated. It wasn't that she was ashamed of dating two men, of sleeping with two men, but it didn't seem right to out their relationship without their knowledge. As the same time, she didn't want to answer Marcus' question in singular form. It seemed unfair to Remus and Sirius. "I'm happy," she spoke the truth, her smile the only answer Marcus needed. "I don't know where it's going, but I'm happy."

He leaned over to lay his hand on hers. "You deserve it, kitten."

It was terrible luck that Sirius exited Flourish and Blotts that very moment, having stopped by the bookstore to pick up an order for Hermione. She'd already left for work when the owl arrived with the invoice. He decided to save her a trip and see if he could talk her into lunch. Apparently he wasn't the only man with that plan in mind. He watched as Flint said something that made Hermione smile, his damn hand still on top of hers. Who the hell did he think he was? He had his chance with Hermione. He blew it. He wasn't going to get another one.

Glaring at the couple, Sirius disapparated with a loud pop.

* * *

 

"How was lunch?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Pansy's oh-so-innocent question. "It was lunch."

"And Marcus? How is he?"

"He's well/" Hermione picked up the stack of letters addressed to her from the reception desk. She didn't have any appointments that afternoon, but there was always paperwork she needed to catch up on before it overtook her desk. "He fell from his broom a few days ago, suffered a mild concussion, so he has a few days off while he rests."

"And will you be helping him rest?" she teased.

"Yes, Hermione; will you be playing healer to Mr. Flint?" Hermione and Pansy turned toward the entrance as Sirius strode inside, the expression on his face unreadable.

"Sirius –" Hermione started.

"You looked rather cozy at lunch."

"You _spied_ on me?"

"You seemed to forget that Diagon Alley is a rather busy place,” Sirius scoffed. “Honestly, I thought someone with your intelligence would remember that when engaging in duplicitous behavior."

She fisted her hands on her hips. "Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Did you not have lunch with your ex?"

Pansy cleared her throat. "Maybe you'd like to take this to your office, Hermione," she suggested. "I have a client coming soon and Luna should be wrapping up a session."

"I apologize, Pansy, but that won't be necessary," she replied with an angry glare at Sirius. "This conversation is over." She marched to her office without a second glance. Sirius let her take three steps before he caught up to her, taking her arm in his. "Let go of me," she demanded.

"No way in hell," he growled as they continued to her office. He warded the door closed and put up a silencing charm. Before Hermione could open her mouth, his lips were on hers in a bruising kiss. "You're ours, Hermione," he hissed fiercely, breaking the kiss only to trail his lips down her neck, sucking her skin hard enough to leave marks. He wanted to mark her. He wanted fucking Marcus Flint to know she was taken. Hell, he wanted every man to know it, muggle and wizard. "Mine and Remus'." He turned, pressing her against the door, slapping one hand against the wood, his other grasping her hip. "Did you forget that?"

She shook her head, her head whirling at the ferocity of Sirius' voice. Her lips felt swollen, bruised. She should be angry. She went to lunch with a friend. There's nothing wrong with that. Marcus didn't even kiss her when they parted, instead giving her a hug and promising to harm anyone who hurt her. But rather than anger, she felt something more. Something deeper, fiercer.

"Really?" Sirius dragged his hand down to the hem of her dress, sneaking under the fabric so he could slide it back up, his hand warm on her skin, his lips barely an inch from hers, as he stroked her. She closed her eyes, her head falling back as he touched her, two fingers pumping in and out of her body, his thumb rubbing her clitoris. She shouldn't like this. His anger, his possessiveness, shouldn't be a turn on. But it was. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," her voice heavy with need, with want.

"Who do you belong to?"

She swallowed. "You and Remus."

"Who gets to fuck you?" He slid a third finger inside her.

"Gods …"

"Answer the question!"

"You and Remus."

"That's right, princess." His tone changed immediately from incensed to seductive. He could feel her body gripping his fingers, her inner walls trembling on him. She wasn't going to last long. "You need this, don't you? It's been too long, hasn't it?"

"Yes," she moaned just before he kissed her, his lips softer as he slid his tongue inside her mouth to stroke hers, his fingers never stopping their insistent rhythm.

"This is how it is now," he whispered, his forehead against hers, gray eyes boring into brown. "You can fuck me and you can fuck Remus, but that's it; no one else."

She shook her head at his words. How could he think she'd even want anyone else?

"Say it."

"Sirius, please … so close …"

"Say it!"

"It was just lunch," she cried, her voice breaking in frustration. "He asked if I was seeing someone and I said yes!"

Sirius' heart leapt at her words, but he wanted more. "Give me the words, Hermione. Tell me no one else and I'll let you come. Tell me you're mine and Remus'." He curved his index finger buried deep inside her, smirking as she gasped, her hands clutching his shoulders.

"No one else!" she cried. "Gods, I don't want anyone else but you and Remus. Please!"

He touched. He stroked. He pressed hard on her clit at the same time his finger tapped her G-spot, his mouth swallowing her screams as she came, her body nearly collapsing with the force of her orgasm. He lightened his touch, bringing her down softly, licking the bruises he left on her neck in anger. Sliding his fingers out of her, he stared into her eyes as he licked her essence from each digit before he gathered her close. He carried her to her desk, sitting in the large chair with Hermione curled on his lap.

"It was just lunch," she whispered against his neck. "He's a friend; nothing more. I don't want him to be anything more than that. I promise."

He let his breath out on a long sigh. "I believe you, princess.”

She pulled back. "Just like that?"

He reached a hand up to brush away a few curls sticking to her flushed cheeks. "Do you want to yell some more?"

She shook her head. She wasn't mad anymore. She’d probably overanalyze the situation later, but right now she was content. In fact, she felt more relaxed than she had in days. "Do you?"

His smile was smug. "If every fight ends like this, I may find reasons to start more in the future."

She giggled and nestled into his chest. "I don't have a problem with that."

"That's my girl."

Her heart leapt at his choice of words, but she didn’t comment on them. Now now. So she stayed quiet, curled in Sirius’ lap, her cheek pressed against his chest and listened to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. Sirius knew she was thinking about something, trying to decide the best way to voice her concerns. He closed her eyes to enjoy her ministrations while she figured it out.

"Does Remus still want me?"

He did not see that coming. "What?"

She avoided his gaze. "These past couple of weeks … you've both been sweet and attentive, but this was the first time you've touched me. Sexually. Did you do it because you wanted to make a point? Did you do it because you wanted to? Did you do it because Remus won't?"

"Hermione …"

"The full moon is Friday, Sirius. I know what happens before that.” She pushed herself off of his lap. "At first I thought you backed off because he needed to figure things out, to see if he could be with me like that. I know you want me, I think he does, but both of you stop before you do anything. Why?"

"Oh, princess," Sirius murmured, taking her hands in his, tugging until she was standing in-between his legs. "We both want you desperately. We've backed off because we want you. I know that doesn't make sense," he rushed in response to her confused look, "but what we're doing, the three of us, is new to me – and to Remus. We said we'd date but honestly, Hermione, neither one of us ever dated a witch before. It's always been about physical release, nothing more, so when Harry asked if there were any wizards we could set you up with –"

"What?"

"—Remus got it in his head that we needed to romance you. We want to keep you, princess. We'll do whatever it takes to make you believe that."

"It was a _campaign_? The flowers? The dinners? The carnival?"

"It was a gesture," he clarified. "It was stupid not to let allow physical intimacy, too – I want it on the record that I was against that from the beginning – but Remus was adamant. I blame all those stupid movies you made us watch. He was convinced we had to woo you,” he summarized with a snort. Remus was an idiot about the whole ‘No sex’ thing, but the man was spot on about the romance. Hermione deserved that attention and damn it all if he didn’t deserve the opportunity to show someone that kind of care. He didn’t grow up in a family where love was given freely. Affection was something he had very little experience with until he met the Potters. Then, it became something he craved. Perhaps he didn’t have the greatest understanding of how to give or receive it, but he was willing to do whatever it took to convince Hermione that his mistakes, which he knew there’d be many, were made with the best of intentions. “Honestly, Hermione, non-physical gratification aside, I liked the plan. You deserve to be pampered."

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, but with less ferocity than before. "I also deserve to have sex when I'm dating two sexy men."

He pulled on her hands until she was in his lap again, this time straddling him, her legs on either side of his waist. "You are absolutely right, princess."

She ground her lower body into his, loving his groan of appreciation. "So what do we do now?"

"I have some ideas," he moaned, thrusting against her. "But I should probably clear them with Remus first."

She leaned back. "Really?"

"Like I said, princess, this is new to us, too. I don’t feel comfortable …” He groaned as she rubbed against him again. “OK, now I really don’t feel comfortable. Hermione, we need to establish some ground rules."

She rolled her eyes, but got off of his lap. "Fine," she muttered, refusing to feel sorry for Sirius as he shifted in her chair. "But what do we do about Friday?"

"What we always do. Remus and I will spend the night in the basement."

"I meant leading up to Friday."

Sirius leaned back in the chair, a thoughtful look on his face. "Well, that's up to you, princess. We haven't talked about it, but if you're up for –"

"I am," she stated emphatically.

He chuckled. "Then I guess you'll need to convince Moony, won't you?"

Sirius was extremely pleased with the slow smile that appeared on Hermione's face in response to his challenge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sirius' behavior might turn some of you off. Jealousy makes people do things they're not proud of. I'm not condoning his actions, but for the sake of the story, that's how I wrote the scene.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW
> 
> There's a bit of BDSM in this chapter, so if that's going to turn you off, don't read it. You've been warned. (She's messing with a werewolf, not a tabby cat.)

Remus stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, pushing his wet hair back from his face with a careless swipe of his hand. He spent nearly ten minutes under the cool spray in an effort to calm down after talking to Sirius.

_"Don't get mad," Sirius started, handing Remus a tumbler of firewhiskey before taking the seat opposite him in the library._

_"That's never a good way to start a conversation, Padfoot," he remarked, his concern increasing as his friend drank his glass of alcohol in one swallow. "What happened? Is it Hermione? Is she OK?"_

_"Hermione's fine," he rasped, refilling his glass. "She'll be home later."_

_Remus glanced at the large Grandfather clock in the corner. It was nearly seven._ _"She doesn't work late on Mondays."_

_"She fell behind this afternoon." Sirius lifted the glass to his lips but set it down without drinking._

_He told him about Marcus Flint and his lunch with Hermione, Sirius' confrontation at her office and what happened when he stopped yelling at their witch. Remus listened, ignoring the urge to find the Quidditch player and tear him to pieces, of going to Hermione's office and repeating what happened between her and Sirius, only he wouldn't be as generous as his friend._

_"She wants us."_

_"It sounds like you handled things well on your own," Remus said dryly._

_"Don't be an ass," Sirius growled. "Had the situation been reversed, I'd –"_

_"You were pissed that she kissed me first, Padfoot." His voice was eerily calm despite the boiling of his blood, the wolf snarling in his mind. Why was Sirius pushing him now? It was too close to the full moon and they had not talked about what role Hermione would play in the days leading up to it. Did he want her? Yes. Did her want her between him and Sirius? Yes. Did he want to know what it would be like to unleash the beast within and take her in every way he'd never let himself imagine except in the escape of dreams that left him needing?_

_More than anything._

_"So how are we going to do this, then?" Sirius shot back, his own temper showing. "We can only have her when we're together? Is that how you see this working? Or do you want a rotation? One night we share, the next she's mine, the third night she's yours, and then we start again?"_

_Remus snorted at that, finally lifting the tumbler to his lips. "Now who's being an ass?"_

_"Its new territory for all of us, Moony," Sirius replied. "I'm trying to navigate it the best I can without fucking up."_

_He didn't say it, but Remus got the message: he was the one fucking up. They had a witch – a beautiful, brilliant, sexual witch – desperate for them, and he was holding back. He left the library, his footsteps heavy as he stalked downstairs, shedding his clothes as soon as he stepped in his bedroom, walking into the shower and turning the shower on cold._

Sirius turned off the television when Remus walked into the study wearing sweatpants and a white T-shirt. His hair was still damp, but he looked … No, he didn't look calm. "You know what’s a great stress reliever? Sex."

Remus grunted and flopped on the leather sofa. "Tried that. Didn't work."

"Next time try it with Hermione. It's a lot more fun/" Sirius spoke from experience, having spent many mornings in the shower thinking of the curly-haired witch. "Speaking of our girl, she owled while you were, um, showering. She's bringing home food."

Remus glanced over, green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "And?"

"And what?"

"You're up to something, Padfoot."

Sirius rolled his eyes and picked up the remote control. "You need to stop being paranoid or I'm going to start calling you Moody."

Remus shook his head, watching with little interest as Sirius flipped through the channels. He was twitchy and agitated, and his senses were on overload. Everything was too loud, too bright, too much. It was always like this in the days leading up to the full moon. He'd work from home the rest of the week; one of the few perks of his status being outed was that people understood his need to take time off before and after the full moon. The few times he attempted to work through the emotional and physical preparations of his monthly transformations were not experiences he wanted to remember.

He shifted restlessly, the automatic laughter from the television screen grating on his nerves. Where was Hermione? Did she run into Flint again? Was this a day Nott, Sr. stopped by her office.

"Moony," Sirius spoke softly, as the wards shifted to announce Hermione's presence. "It's fine."

He nodded, feeling the tension in his shoulders relax as she called hello from the front entryway.

"Study!" Sirius hollered, shaking his head when Remus went to stand.

"Be there in a second," Hermione shouted in reply.

* * *

 

She stood in the kitchen, knowing she only had a minute before either Remus or Sirius came looking for her. It would likely be Remus, as Sirius had an inkling of how she spent the rest of her day, or he thought he did, at least. She wanted him to be surprised, too.

It was adorable how they restrained from the physical aspect of their relationship in order to make her feel cherished. It was also as frustrating as hell. Still, if she learned anything this afternoon, other than Sirius was more talented than she realized, it was that she needed them. Desperately. Why else would she react to Sirius the way she did? His words, his demands – they made her so eager. The way both men dominated her in the bedroom … she couldn't put into words how it made her feel. It wasn't weak. No, when she was with them, she felt fervent, passionate. They were demanding, but never questioned her ability to rise to it.

"Hermione?"

"Coming!" she yelled, grabbing the picnic basket by the handles. She hoped she knew what she was doing.

* * *

 

Remus heard her walking up the stairs and nudged Sirius in the arm to make him turn off the television. He was right. They needed to talk. If he learned anything in the past two weeks, it was that he couldn't imagine life without her. He needed her, from the smiles she gave him in the morning when he stole her coffee to the way she nagged him to wear his glasses when reading. He stood up, the beginnings of a speech in his head, but the words disappeared when she walked into the room and he saw what she was wearing. "Hermione …"

She'd donned a red and black corset with a red flared skirt that ended several inches above her knees. The corset was skintight, with red silk laces tied in bow between her breasts. Silky white stockings that ended mid-thigh and black heeled Mary Janes completed the look. In case the werewolf didn't recognize the cultural significance of her ensemble, she had a satin red cape over her shoulders, tied loosely just below the hollow of her throat.

"Merlin," Sirius breathed.

"Gentlemen," she greeted the pair. Walking to the other side of the coffee table in front of the sofa, she slowly untied the cape from her neck and letting it fall to the floor. Thick curls the color of mahogany were draped over bare shoulders, several faint bruises visible on her neck. Remus felt Moony roar as he took in Sirius' work.

"You didn't tell me you marked her," he said calmly.

"Feel free to follow my lead," Sirius replied, his eyes on the witch as she settled on her knees, her focus on whatever she had in the picnic basket she'd sat on the floor beside her.

"Hermione," Remus said again.

"Sit," she told him, placing three white plates on the table. "You need to eat."

He didn't want to eat. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to flip that tiny excuse of a skirt up and see what she wore underneath. He wanted to bury his face between the breasts that threatened to spill over the cups of her corset every time she bent over the basket, giving him a tantalizing view of gorgeous flesh. It had been too long since he had his lips around her nipples, licking, tasting, and sucking.

She placed cheese, sliced apples, grapes, chicken salad and a loaf of crusty French bread on each plate. Three wine glasses were pulled from the basket next, as well as a bottle of wine, which she passed to Sirius. He removed the cork wandlessly and filled their glasses.

"What do you think you're doing, little girl?" Remus asked, noting the way she shivered at his voice.

"Well," she began, a delighted smile on her face as she looked at him, "I spent the afternoon trying to think of the best way to seduce a reluctant werewolf." Taking a purple grape from her plate, she popped it in her mouth, one finger catching the juice that squirted on to her chin. Innocently, she slowly licked it off. "This included a stop in London, where I wasted an hour trying on lingerie, but nothing jumped out at me."

"Lingerie?" Sirius leered. "Princess, the next time you feel like spending money on satin and lace, I insist I go with you."

She gave him a smug look. "I may have found a few things. If you're a good boy, perhaps I'll try them on for you later."

"Looking forward to it," Sirius purred.

She shot the Animagus another smile before turning back to Remus. "We haven't discussed what you plan to do to keep Moony satisfied until the full moon," she told him, picking her wineglass up and sipping slowly as she eyed him speculatively, hungrily. "Knowing you, Remus, I figured you were going to have a calm discussion about why I wasn't ready for the full-on Moony experience."

"You're not," he said quietly.

She smirked and popped another grape in her mouth. "Try me."

The wolf howled at the challenge. Who did she think she was to walk in here and made demands of him? He made the demands!

Dinner was a tense affair. Hermione swallowed each bite of food slowly after chewing carefully, her pink tongue darting out to capture a stray crumb or a drop of wine on her lips. Several times Sirius leaned forward to feed Hermione from his plate or take an offering from her, the pair sucking and licking each other's fingers. Remus didn't trust himself to partake in their game, intent on maintaining control over his the instincts that were shouting at him to show Hermione just how the wolf devoured Little Red.

"Do you want more?"

Her voice was nearly as innocent as the expression on her face as she knelt on the floor, one hand reaching for his empty plate. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "Yes," he leered.

"What do you want?"

A flash of images raced through his mind. What did he want? He wanted her, on her knees, moaning as she sucked his cock. He wanted her over Sirius on the stairs, the dark-haired wizard thrusting into her as he took her from behind. He wanted her spread on her bed, pleasuring herself as they watched. She wanted her naked in Sirius’ arms as he licked her juices from her body.

_I'm going to make you scream._

He stood and circled the couch, balancing on his feet as he stooped next to her. He brought one hand up to the corset, lightly tracing the satin that encased her curves. His touch was light, his voice hoarse as he tried one last time to give her an out. "You're playing with fire."

She shivered in desire, not fear, as she leaned forward to press her lips against his in a chaste kiss. "Moony," she whispered. "What big eyes you have …"

The wolf whined as Remus dragged his eyes slowly down Hermione's body, the burn of his gaze penetrating as amber eyes met brown. "The better to see you with, little girl," he replied hoarsely.

Taking his hands in hers, she brought them up to cover her breasts, arching her back to press further into his touch. "What big hands you have," her eyes closing on a sigh as his fingers flexed on her.

He chuckled, feeling her nipples pebble under the smooth fabric. "The better to touch you with, little girl."

She moaned, already lost in the sensation of his touch, when she felt Sirius at her back, nibbling along her shoulders. "What's the next line, princess?" he whispered.

She turned so she could look at him as she spoke. "What big teeth you have."

Sirius kissed her, all tongue and teeth as Remus continued to knead her breasts. "Are you ready to be gobbled up, Hermione?" Sirius panted.

Remus stood, pulling Hermione with him. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her roughly. "My room," he growled before he turned and left the room.

Hermione turned toward Sirius, confused. "Did I do something wrong?"

He pressed his forehead against her. "Never. You did something very, very right." He hunched over and swept her into his arms, his eyes never leaving hers as he walked out of the room, taking the stairs to Remus' bedroom. "Don't be scared," he told her. "Moony won't hurt you and I'll be there the entire time."

She looped her arms around his neck and nodded, holding on to the thread of courage that made her visit the store Luna recommended in the first place. She wanted this. She wanted them.

Hermione Granger got what she wanted.

* * *

 

Sirius strode to Remus' bedroom, where he was reclining on the large bed that dominated the space. He was naked, the light of a nearly two dozen candles around the room bathing him in a golden light that matched his eyes. Sirius stood Hermione in front of him, his hands on her hips as they faced the werewolf.

"Take off her clothes," Remus demanded, one hand slowly caressing his hard cock.

"Everything?" Sirius clarified, his hands coming around Hermione's stomach to undo the laces of the corset.

Remus smirked. "Padfoot has a shoe fetish, little girl; did you know that?"

She shook her head, catching her breath each time she felt the brush of Sirius' fingers against her skin.

"He loves the feeling of a woman's heels digging into his back as he thrusts inside of her. Why is that, Padfoot?"

"Everyone has their kinks, Moony," he spoke conversationally as he slid the skirt down Hermione's legs, before lifting the corset away from her body. She stood there in her stockings, shoes and a pair of white satin knickers.

"I can smell her from here," Remus remarked.

"I could smell her in the study," Sirius shot back.

"Me, too. She's a needy little thing, isn't she?"

Sirius slid a hand inside her knickers, feeling the moisture that was already dripping out of her. "So needy," he purred against the side of her neck, his fingers spreading her wetness around before he withdrew to lick his digits clean. Remus watched the whole scene hungrily, his hand still gliding up and down his cock.

"Let's have her show us," he decided, getting off the bed.

Hermione was trying to figure out what he meant by that when she felt Sirius slide her knickers down her legs, bending to lift her out of the small patch of fabric before tossing her on the bed. She lay on her back, her eyes on the men at the foot of the bed, one naked and the other disrobing.

"Spread your legs, little girl," Remus commanded. She felt the flush spread to her cheeks at his bluntness.

"Hermione, we talked about this earlier," Sirius reminded her. "Who do you belong to?"

"You and Remus."

"Very good," Remus growled. "Spread your legs. Show us what's ours."

Her legs fell open automatically, the tone of his voice impossible to ignore. She expected to feel embarrassed, but she didn't. She felt beautiful. Wanted. Desired.

"Do you want to play, Moony?" Sirius asked.

Remus nodded. Sirius climbed onto the bed and settled behind Hermione, his erection pushing against her back as he pulled her closer to him. He cradled her in his arms, his feet hooking around her ankles to spread her legs wide, leaving her open and vulnerable. Nuzzling her neck, he breathed words of want, of need, as Remus slowly advanced.

"What was the part of the story we missed," Sirius mused. "The part where the wolf says 'The better to eat you with,' correct?"

Hermione nodded, breathless as Remus settled in between her legs.

"He's going to eat your pussy, princess," Sirius whispered in her ear. "He's going to make a feast out of you. I'm going to watch as he licks and sucks and bites. I'm going to feel every sigh, every shudder, you make."

She tensed, already on edge.

"Your scent," Remus inhaled, burying his nose touch her labia. He took a deep breath, knowing the witch was on edge. He could feel her thighs trembling. And then his tongue was on her, in her, setting every nerve afire. She arched, wanting more, but Sirius tightened his hold.

"No," he demanded. "Be still and take was he gives you."

Remus licked his way up her swollen folds slowly, exploring every crevice, before giving her clit a torturous flick. She gasped, her body alight with sensation. She writhed between the two men, barely feeling the sting of Sirius' hand against her outer thigh.

"Let him lead, Hermione," he warned. "If you can't listen, we'll tie you to the bed. We'll attach your wrists to the headboard and spread your legs so wide. You won't have an inch to move as we take our pleasure from you."

She moaned as Remus continued to nibble on her pussy, devouring her like a treat. There wasn't an inch of her he didn't taste. "Please, Remus," she pleaded as the fluttering in her stomach intensified.

Sirius chuckled and brought his hands to her breasts, rolling and pinching her nipples. "So sensitive," he murmured in approval.

"So wet," Remus moaned, licking every bit of the moisture between her legs, his mouth going back to her clit. He drew the nubbin between his teeth, his tongue flicking as he gently bit the bundle of nerves.

"Gods!" she cried, again trying to press herself closer to him.

"Enough," he growled, pulling away, ignoring her cry of protest. "We told you to be still, Hermione, didn't we?"

"Yes," she moaned. She was so close. She wiggled against Sirius, hoping he'd have mercy and slide his hand down to finish the job, but he didn't. Instead, he pushed her forward, sliding out from behind her to stand on the side of the bed.

"She's been naughty, Moony," he said with a smirk. "Hermione, do you know what happens to little girls who don't do as their told?"

She bit her lip. "They don't get to come?"

Remus chuckled arrogantly. "That. Or they can be spanked. I'll give you a choice. You can either fuck us and not come, or you can take your spankings and then, depending on how well you do, we'll let you come more than once as we fuck you."

Her head swiveled as she looked at either man. She wasn't opposed to roughhousing in the bedroom. Marcus had spanked her once. She enjoyed it more than she thought she would, but it was something that happened in the moment, as she was riding him. He didn't calmly discuss it with her beforehand.

"Princess?"

She swallowed, her desire to come bigger than any embarrassment she might feel. "I'll take my spanking," she whispered.

Remus grabbed her chin in his hand, kissing her fiercely. "Good girl."

It was Sirius who sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her over his lap. He slid his hands up her thighs, still encased in the silk stockings, the shoes still on her feet. He ran one of his large hands over her bottom. It was perfectly heart-shaped and made his mouth water. "How many?" he growled at Remus.

"Ten. We'll go easy on her because it's her first time."

Ten? Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but then Sirius' hand came down with a crack. Fire licked across her flesh, making her moan. Before she could wrap her head around what happened, he spanked her again, his hand landing in a different spot.

"That's our girl," Remus kneeled on the floor, his fingers running through Hermione's hair. "Do you like feeling Padfoot's hands on you? Don't lie. I can smell how excited you got with that first one."

She closed her eyes, unknowing, unwilling, to put what she was feeling in words. Instead, she counted in her head as Sirius spanked her, his hand never landing on the same spot twice. It hurt and yet it didn't. The initial sting of pain gave way to something else. Something deeper and darker. She felt moisture in-between her legs. Dear Merlin, she liked this!

"Don't be ashamed," Sirius murmured, running his hand lightly over her arse. It was such a pretty shade of pink. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying play in the bedroom. And now," he continued, helping her to her feet before tumbling her back on the bed, his body coming down to rest on top of hers, "you get a reward."

He kissed her, his tongue delving into her mouth as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her hands threading through his dark locks. Remus watched as the pair writhed against each other. "On your back, Padfoot."

Sirius complied, rolling over until Hemrione was balanced on top of him. She felt Remus at her back, his lips on her shoulders as his hands came around to cup her breasts. "We're going to leave your shoes on for Padfoot, alright, little girl?"

She nodded, rubbing herself against the Animagus' hard length. Sirius responded by gripping her hips and lifting her, impaling her on his hard cock. He groaned, she sighed, and together they started moving. Remus watched, his hands still on Hermione's breasts, which swayed with her movements. She had perfect breasts. They fit perfectly in his hands. He loved to watch them bounce, move, as he thrust deep inside her.

But that was for later. This was now. Running his hand down her back, his finger came to her puckered hole. He felt her tense and planted kisses on her back, as Sirius soothed her.

"It will be all right, Hermione," he murmured. "We'll get you all ready and when Moony slides in, it's going to feel so good, both of your men inside you. You are going to feel so full, so complete." He slid one hand down to where their bodies connected, his fingers sliding over her clit. He felt her gasp and relax, ignoring his own need to come as he continued to move, slowly, driving her up. "She's close, Moony," he growled, knowing he couldn't hold out forever.

Hermione felt a cool sensation – lubrication – before Remus slid a finger inside her. She whimpered, the intrusion not necessarily painful, but odd.

"OK?" Sirius whispered.

She nodded, gasping as a second finger was added. Slowly, Remus pumped his fingers in and out of her as Sirius held himself still. It was an off combination of pressure, a bit of pain, and incredible pleasure.

"Can you take more?" Remus hissed.

She wanted to. She had to. She needed to feel both men inside of her.

Sirius moved out of her, shushing her protests. "It's just so Moony can slide in," he assured her. "Just another minute."

And it was. Using her own juices, Remus rubbed the moisture over his cock and slowly slid inside Hermione's virgin hole, hissing his pleasure at the tightness. "Relax," he advised, balancing one hand on the bed, the other on her shoulder. "Push down instead of out."

She listened and gasped as he slid all the way in. He was still for a minute, giving her time to adjust and then he withdrew, slowly. She hissed in response, her nerves jumping at the sensation. "More," she sighed.

He moved in and out, slowly, building a rhythm that had her pushing back to meet him. Sirius watched for a moment before sliding back into Hermione's pussy, the witch crying out as both men filled her. Knowing she was close, they were close, they established a cycle of one pushing in as the other withdrew, never slowing as she mewled her pleasure.

"Yes!" Remus cried. "Our witch! So fucking good!"

Sirius groaned as her pussy gripped him. "She's close, Moony!"

"So close," Hermione echoed. "Harder!"

They pounded, any fears they had about hurting her gone as she responded with cries of pleasure and request for more, faster. Remus gripped both of her shoulders, his hold demanding has he pistoned in and out of her. Sirius' grip on the tops of her thighs was just as brutal. "Come on, baby!" he cried, not wanting to come before she did.

She did, yelling their names as she closed her eyes to avoid the stars flashing in front of her. Sirius came next, shouting her voice as he spilled his seed inside of her. Remus pushed her forward onto Sirius as he continued to move, Moony demanding that he fuck her with everything he had. Resting his lips against her shoulder, he bit her skin as he felt his balls tighten in preparation for release, bruising her.

"Hermione," he groaned as he came, thrusting until he was empty. His body slid down to rest against her back for a minute, his legs trembling as he caught his breath. This witch. She was the one. His. Moony's. Sirius'.

He slid out of her, wincing at her hiss of pain. Collapsing to the side of the bed, he dragged her off of Sirius and curled against her, her back to his front, one arm around her, his hand gripping her breasts possessively. "Give me a minute, little girl. Then we'll go again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update until after the holiday. Enjoy!

Hermione drank the last bit of coffee and refilled her mug before she even swallowed, her need for caffeine bordering on desperate.

_"Give me a minute, little girl. Then we'll go again."_

She was unaware that a minute in Moony time was closer to ten seconds, but he was quick to educate her again and again. Stifling a yawn, she pulled a carton of strawberry yogurt from the refrigerator, wishing she had time for bacon and eggs, but she woke up late thanks to a randy werewolf and vivacious wizard. She barely had time to guzzle her coffee if she was going to make it to her first session on time.

"How are you feeling, princess?"

Hermione couldn't speak around the spoonful of yogurt in her mouth, but managed to give Sirius an emphatic nod conveying general well-being. He responded by kissing her cheek and placing a vial of pain potion on the kitchen table. Smiling at his thoughtfulness – he was the one to make her take one after their third go last night – she uncorked the glass vial and tossed the liquid back, chasing the bitter taste away with the rest of her coffee. Thank goodness the contraception potion she digested every month was sweeter.

"No regrets?" His voice was casual, but she heard the concern. She'd glamoured the bruises and bite marks from her body, but he knew where they were, gray eyes dark as he took in her appearance.

"Not one. You?"

He leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, the very image of a self-satisfied man. "I doubt there's a man alive happier than I am at this very moment."

"You might want to reconsider that statement, Padfoot." Remus walked into the kitchen and pulled Hermione from her chair. She braced herself, not sure what kind of greeting to expect given all that he'd done to her the night before, letting her breath out on a long sigh as he wrapped his arms around her.

Remus buried his face in her neck, his lips gently kissing the bruises he knew were on her. When he woke up that morning, his body exhausted and his mind quiet, all he wanted was to curl around Hermione and sleep the morning away. That was a first. He never let a witch spend the night in his bed and he rarely stayed in theirs long enough to see the sunrise. Call it self-preservation, but he considered it bad form to give a woman hope that one night together would lead to something more. Now, though, his survival instinct was on mute. He had opened his eyes to an empty bed and had to tamper the flash of panic that threatened his placidity. He could hear her in the kitchen, her voice no more than a soft murmur as she spoke to Sirius. She was there. She didn't sound panicked. He hadn't scared her off.

Maybe it wasn't impossible. Maybe the three of them could actually make a relationship work.

Wanting to see her, needing to see her, before the wolf's desires commanded his attention, he climbed out of bed, noting his tired limbs with a wry grin. She never backed down. Not once. Everything they demanded of her, she gave willingly. She was untamed fire and sweet submission rolled into an appealing package he couldn't wait to open again. Pulling on the sweatpants he'd discarded the night before, he made his way to the kitchen, pausing only when Sirius asked if she had regrets.

_"Not one."_

* * *

 

Hermione raised her hand to Pansy's door, but couldn't bring herself to knock. Wednesdays were the witch's busiest days, with nearly back-to-back patients. On top of that, she led a grief support session at night. Ron once asked Hermione to talk to his wife about slowing down. It took a month for his hair to return to its normal shade of red.

"I can hear you breathing!" Pansy’s irritated voice called through the door.

Hermione sighed and pushed open the door. "I know you're swamped, but –"

"Stop right there," Pansy interrupted. "Is this going to be a 'What should I do?' conversation or a 'You will not believe what happened!' conversation?"

"The latter."

"You may come in," Pansy said primly, smirking as Hermione closed the door and cautiously sat in the chair in front of her desk. "You know, the last time I saw you walk like that was after we let Ginny convince us to try that Muggle form of torture."

"Pilates isn't torture."

"That's up for debate, but seeing as Madame Goyle will be here in less than 15 minutes, start talking."

"I broke Remus and Sirius of their self-imposed chastity last night."

Pansy squealed, the influence of marrying a Gryffindor shining through as she leapt up to hug her friend, who winced slightly at her enthusiasm. "Merlin, they really had a go at you, didn't they?"

Hermione flushed bright red. "Two wizards, one of whom will be transform into a werewolf two nights from now," she reminded her friend.

"Right. I suppose when we were discussing ways to force Remus' hand, we should have considered the physical ramifications."

"You think?" Hermione snapped.

"Hey, don't get mad at me! I'm not the one who banged you six ways from Sunday."

"First, it was seven," she said smugly even though she knew that wasn't what Pansy meant. Despite her current level of discomfort, she was telling the truth when she said she didn't have regrets. "Second, there are still two nights before Friday." She didn't add that Remus' and Sirius' reliance on one-night stands made more sense to her now.

Pansy crossed her legs. "As much as I love being the person you turn to for advice –"

"That's because you insinuate yourself into everything."

"– I must admit that this is out of my area of expertise."

Hermione whipped her head around to glare at Pansy. "I'm not asking Fred and George for help with this!"

"Actually, that's not a bad –"

"NO!"

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "You know, for someone who spent her several hours involved in all kinds of debauchery, you are quite the prude." Rising, Pansy picked the Goyle folder up from her desk. "I wasn't going to suggest talking to the twins, but Luna. She is the one that suggested Little Red Riding Hood, after all. I'm sure she knows of a potion or spell that can prepare a witch for the kind of entertainment playing dress up leads to."

* * *

 

Hermione stood outside Luna's office. She had no idea why she was so reluctant to ask her friend for advice. Despite Luna's less than conventional way of living, no one could find fault with her results. She was brilliant with the children she counseled, and she and Draco were deliriously happy. Even Lucius and Narcissa approved of the couple. If that didn't speak of Luna's magical ability, nothing else would.

The door opened. "Have you decided to come in?"

Hermione smiled at Luna's inquisitive expression. "How long have you known I was out here?"

"Only a few minutes, but I knew you wanted to talk to me when I woke this morning. The Wrablings were chattering fiercely in the garden. They only do that when a friend is in need, you know."

Hermione nodded solemnly as she entered Luna's office, accepting the mug of chamomile tea Luna handed her with a smile of thanks.

"I put a muscle relaxer in yours," Luna informed her before taking a sip of her own tea. "Pain potions can only do so much for the aches related to sex."

"Is it that obvious?"

Luna smiled but said nothing.

"Luna … how did you know? When I first confessed my feelings for Remus and Sirius, you were the only one who wasn't surprised. You knew what happened between us last month before I told you. You even told me where to shop yesterday."

"Draco likes costumes."

Hermione closed her eyes. She did not need to know that.

"I assume you went with Little Red over slutty schoolgirl," the blond continued.

"Um … yes. The schoolgirl route seemed …" She wanted to say cliché, but so was donning a sexualized Little Red Riding Hood outfit to entice a werewolf.

"Remus was our professor. I don't think the schoolgirl outfit would have the same effect on him as it does most men."

"Please don't mention Draco's name, Luna. I'm begging you," Hermione pleaded.

Luna shook her head slightly, blaming Hermione's inability to be open about sex on her Muggle childhood. In their world, sex was a corporeal feature of their magic. Carnal intimacy was a pleasant experience when the magic of the people involved wasn't compatible, but when two, or more, people's magic called to each other, the results were explosive. Often, a wizard and witch's magic made the connection to their ideal partner before they were aware of it. She remembered how surprised she was when she realized Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin who bullied so many of her friends, was the man her magic sought. She saw the connection between Hermione, Remus and Sirius years ago, but kept her mouth closed as the trio tried to find happiness in other couplings. There was nothing wrong with experimentation. It made finding the person one is meant to be with that much better.

Taking several small packets out of her top desk drawer, she slid it across the wood surface. "Add one to a warm bath, the temperature just slightly above lukewarm, and soak for twenty minutes. Do this when you get home tonight and again tomorrow morning."

Hermione picked up the packets, sniffing them cautiously. "What is it?"

"Herbs for a bridal bath," Lune replied. "Pureblood witches would soak in them before their wedding and the morning after their wedding night."

"I'm Muggle-born."

"That doesn't matter," Luna informed her. "Bridal bath is the pureblood way of ensuring that a virginal bride was relaxed the first time her body accepted her husband, especially if she had more than one. Triads were quite common a few generations ago; another pureblood practice, as it strengthened the ties between powerful families."

"Do you know of any now?" Hermione was curious.

Luna shook her head. "That doesn't mean one wouldn't be accepted."

* * *

 

The flowers arrived an hour just after her last appointment. Hermione smiled at the tissue covered vase in the middle of her desk, finally acknowledging the ache she felt when the lunch hour passed without a delivery. She didn't expect Remus and Sirius to continue sending her flowers, but their silence after the night they shared had been unnerving.

"Open them," Pansy demanded, tossing a pile of files on one of Hermione's chairs as she pulled on her robe. She preferred Muggle clothing, but her grief session was filled with Pureblood families. She needed to look the part if she was going to help them.

Luna perched on the arm of the other chair as Hermione removed the card before ripping off the tissue paper that covered the flowers: two dozen brown Gladioli.

"Huh," Pansy cocked her head and studied the chocolate-colored flowers. "I know the pickings are bound to get slim with daily deliveries, but this …" She trailed off when Hermione squeaked, her face bright red. Holding out her hand for the small card, she angled it so Luna could read it over her shoulder.

_Your eyes turn the same shade just before you come._

* * *

 

"Go for a walk, Moony."

Remus looked up from the report he'd been trying to read for the past hour, his ability to concentrate fading the closer it got to the time where Hermione would be home. "Why?" He removed his reading glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

"Because right now you look like a man who will jump her the moment you see her and while she was happy with that behavior last night, I don't want to assume she's in the same place we are."

Remus didn't question Sirius' line of thinking. While he was usually the responsible one, Sirius assumed that role around the full moon. He was the one who kept him grounded when Moony threatened his sanity. Remus knew Sirius was the one who talked James and Peter into learning how to become Anamagi. In the years that passed before they perfected their skill, it was Sirius who made the days leading up to the transformation as stress-free for Remus as possible, whether it was keeping Prongs and Wormtail in check, paying attention in class so he could share his notes with Remus, or leaving bars of chocolate on the werewolf’s bed or in his schoolbag.

Remus stood up, sending the work he brought home from the Ministry to the desk with a flick of his wand. "You're going to talk to her when she gets home?"

Sirius nodded. "She was fine this morning, Moony."

"I know, but …," he pulled on a pair of beat-up trainers.

"You worry too much," Sirius told him. "You'll get wrinkles."

Remus scoffed, knowing the scars on his face would disguise any wrinkles he'd accumulate as an old man. Score one for the werewolf, he thought to himself as he apparated to a quiet place to work off some of his excess energy.

* * *

 

Sirius turned off the water and cast a stasis over the bathtub to keep the water warm as he waited for Hermione. He visited the apothecary that afternoon to purchase the herbs necessary for the bath, having a rare moment of gratitude for his Pureblood upbringing and the knowledge that came with it.

"Pretty sure of yourself, are you?"

He looked up at the witch standing in the doorway, a small smile on her lips. He walked over and pulled her in his arms. He meant to keep the kiss light, but as he pressed his lips to hers, felt her body lean against his, he gave in and deepened it, groaning at her response. Sliding his hands down to cup her bum, he pressed her lower body to his.

"Sirius," she sighed.

"I'm over my head with you, princess," he confessed as stepped away from her. Clearing his throat in effort to remind himself of his original intention, he gestured to the bathtub. "This bath has herbs that will –"

"Will relax my muscles and ease any residual pain," she finished for him.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me McGonagall finally saw the benefit of teaching sex education."

Hermione laughed at the thought, pinning her hair up before she slipped off her shoes. Turning her back to Sirius, she waited for him to slide the zipper of her peach-colored sleeveless sundress down her body, shivering at the tiny kisses he pressed to her exposed skin. Stepping away, she slid the dress off her body, letting it pool at her feet as she stood before him in nude-colored lace knickers and a matching bra.

"You're killing me," he groaned.

"Consider it payback for the spankings," she smirked, pushing him out of the bathroom and locking the door.

"I was going to wash your back!" he called through the door.

"Unnecessary," she replied, sliding into the warm water with a sigh.

"Do you really have to make that sound?" the frustrated wizard shouted. "It's the same sound you make when –"

"Sirius!" she yelled. "Make yourself useful and look in the shopping bag on the floor in my closet."

"Why?"

"I need you to choose what I should wear tonight."

He rolled his eyes and walked to her closet. Choose what she should wear. What did it matter what she wore? If the bath worked the way it was supposed to, she’d spend the rest of the night naked, using his body and Remus' to keep warm. Then again, he thought as he peered inside the bag that contained several silky garments that left little to the imagination, there's nothing wrong with setting the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	16. Chapter 16

He chose the black. Looking at the woman standing in front of him, Sirius was more than pleased with his selection. The silk chemise ended just above her knees. It was trimmed in black lace, both the hem and the straps on her shoulders, but the plunging V-neck in both the front and the back kept it from being overly sweet. Her hair was loose, the curls falling wildly down her back. She wore no makeup, no perfume; even the lotion she rubbed into her skin after her bath was unscented in deference to Remus' senses.

She was gorgeous. He wanted to tell her so, but words weren't allowed at this time. Correction. _His_ words weren't allowed. Moony was running the show and, judging by the hungry look in the werewolf's eyes, it would be entertaining.

"Do you see how much he wants you?" Remus stepped behind Hermione, his body just inches from hers. His voice was deep, deliberate. He knew what it did to her when he talked this way. He planned to use it against her.

She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from Sirius. Had she ever seen him look so desperate? For her? The knowledge that this man, this gorgeous, reckless, rebellious man, wanted her that much was heady. Hermione could feel her knees threaten to buckle as she stood in front of Sirius, Remus at her back. They were in the latter's room once more, Sirius having fetched her soon after Remus arrived home from wherever he spent the early evening. She knew the pair had a whispered conversation about her, the last snatches of Remus' control focused on her well-being. She didn't know what Sirius told him, but she was thankful for it and for him. She hoped she had the chance to show him.

"We're going to play a game," Remus continued. "Tell me, little girl, do you want to touch Sirius?"

She nodded again.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

"Please," she whispered, jumping at the slap that landed on her bottom.

"No talking," the werewolf growled.

She closed her eyes, fighting the urge to apologize, if only to give him another reason to reprimand her. The brief moment of embarrassment she felt last night as she was sprawled across Sirius' lap quickly disappeared as pleasure, a pleasure she was still trying to understand, spread over her, around her, through her.

"Hermione."

She opened her eyes, straightening her spine to let Remus know she was there, in the moment.

"You are not allowed to touch me. Sirius is not allowed to touch you. You may, however, touch Sirius. Anything you do to him, I will do to you." He stepped forward, still not touching her, but lowered his head so he could whisper in her ear. "If you place your hands on his chest, I will do the same to you. Kiss him and I kiss you. If you undress him, I will undress you. Understand?"

She nodded, her heart pounding at the erotic picture Remus painted with only his words.

"Very good," he smirked, noting how she preened under his praise. She was so eager to please; she always had been. "You may proceed. Oh, and Hermione? Keep in mind that this is the last bit of control you'll have tonight." He caught Sirius' eye and chuckled. "You might want to make it worth it."

She started small, placing her hands on Sirius' shoulders, feeling Remus' hands come down on hers. She stepped forward to kiss him lightly on the cheek; the man behind her did the same. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, smiling as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back slightly, moaning softly as Remus mirrored her actions. How many nights did she spend like this, weaving her fingers through Sirius' dark locks as he sat at her feet, eyes on the telly or a book while she had her head in Remus' lap and he twisted her curls around his fingers? So innocent, and yet it wasn't. Not now. Maybe not even then. How long has she wanted them? How long would she get to keep them?

She pushed the thought aside, her focus back on the wizard in front of her. He was wearing a T-shirt Harry gave him for Christmas; black, of course, with a quote from Frank Kafka: The meaning of life is that it stops. He laughed when he read it and it quickly became one of his favorites, the white letters now a dull gray. Hermione traced them with her finger, sucking in her breath when Remus' fingers repeated the pattern on the black silk over her chest. She moaned and leaned back, but he nudged her forward.

"Play the game, little girl. If you can't play by the rules, we're done for tonight."

He made the threat often. Hermione wondered if she'd ever be brave enough, stupid enough, to call him on it. That thought must have shown in her eyes because Sirius' expression turned pleading. Maybe, someday, she'd test Remus' limits. Maybe, someday, she'd see how much control she was allowed in the bedroom. Maybe, someday, the desire to have these men, to feel their bodies above her, below her, within her, wouldn't be so consuming that she could walk away.

But someday was not today.

Hermione dragged her hands down Sirius' arms, her fingers ghosting over the tattoos that decorated his tanned flesh, sighing as Remus repeated her actions. Moving her hands to the front of his jeans, she undid the button, lowered the zipper, and peeled the dark denim from his legs, going to her knees to remove them completely. Sirius held out a hand to help her to her feet and when he did, Remus' hands slid under her chemise.

"No knickers?" he hummed, his large hands molding her bottom, a few fingers slipping to the front to tease her. "I had no idea our witch could be so wicked. Did you, Padfoot?"

Sirius shook his head, intent on maintaining the role he was assigned. Playful Moony was a new addition to their pre-full moon preparations. He liked it.

Hermione pressed herself against Sirius, Remus at her back, and rubbed herself against him, sighing as Remus did the same. She ghosted kisses on his still-covered chest, loving the light kisses Remus pressed on her shoulders. She slid her hands under the T-shirt and let her hands explore the ridges of Sirius' toned body, closing her eyes as Remus' hands traveled her curves. It wasn't that she was completely insecure, but there were days when she wished for Ginny's athletic build instead of her softness, Luna's petite features over her full hips and breasts, or even Pansy's stick-straight hair in place of her wild mane. Their features suited them. She sometimes felt as if hers were comprised of leftover pieces in a box.

"Don't," Remus demanded, feeling Hermione tense under his hands. "Be here with us, Hermione. Let us explore you. We have seen every inch of you and find fault with nothing. The freckles on your skin are an invitation to kiss each one. The roundness of your breasts not only invites a man to curl against them in comfort, but they sway so enticingly during sex. I get hard just thinking about how they bounce when you ride me. Your hips are made for a man to hold on to and your legs …" She felt his hands drift down to caress her thighs and calves. "They are shapely, strong and look amazing wrapped around Sirius' neck."

"You are perfect, Hermione," Sirius rasped, breaking the rules for one moment to take her face in his hands and kiss her. When he stepped back, the hungry look was still on his face as he waited for her to make the next move.

His shirt eventually came off, as did her gown. She kissed the exposed skin, preening as Remus did the same to her. When she went to her knees once more to remove Sirius' boxers and take him in her mouth, Remus moved their coupling to the bed, lying on his back so Hermione could balance over him as she pleasured Sirius who stood on the side of the bed. It was an arrangement that almost made Hermione step away, but then Remus' tongue licked her slit and it took everything she had not to come right there.

It started slow, teasing. She kissed and licked Sirius' cock and Remus repeated the actions on her quim. When she opened her mouth wide to take as much of him as she could, Remus focused his attentions on her clit. He kept his hands on her hips, holding her in place as he feasted on her, while she gripped Sirius' thighs, her head bouncing up and down his length.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned as she brought one hand to the base of his cock, holding him tight and moving in the same rhythm as her mouth.

"No talking," she reminded him, her words eliciting yet another smack on her bare ass from Remus. She knew he could taste her reaction to his authority. She was so close. Her thighs on either side of Remus' head were trembling, her clit was throbbing and she could hear how wet she was thanks to Remus' wicked, talented tongue. He licked. He sucked. He probed and bit. She wanted to scream, but she didn't want to leave Sirius unfulfilled. She tried to ignore Remus' actions and focus on her dark-haired lover, quickening her pace. He responded by thrusting his hands in her hair in a firm but not-quite-painful hold, his hips moving slowly to thrust his cock deeper in her mouth.

"That's it," he panted. "Just like that. So close, baby."

She was, too, but she didn't want to let go. No one told her to make Sirius come first, but her instincts enforced that it would be a pleasurable outcome if he did, so she sucked harder, sucked deeper, feeling triumphant when he groaned his release. She didn't let up as she swallowed him, waiting until he loosened his grip on her hair, petting her curls. Slowly she relaxed her hold, her tongue licking every last drop before he slid from her mouth with a pop.

"Fuck," he sighed, his eyes reverent as he looked at her. "Let her come, Moony. She needs it."

He listened, clutching her hips tightly as he drew her clit into his mouth, nibbling on the bundle of nerves until she cried out, falling into Sirius who caught her. She was laughing as Remus reared up, flipping her so she was on her back and he was over her, inside her, within seconds.

"Change of rules," he growled, his eyes glowing amber as he looked at her fiercely. "Talk to me while I'm in you. Tell me what you feel, what you want; don't stop until I come!"

She gasped with his first thrust. "Gods; I love feeling you inside me!"

"Keep talking!"

She babbled. She praised. She repeated his name. She told him how much she loved his tongue on her pussy. She described how his lips felt on her breasts. She asked him, begged him, to move harder, faster, to go deeper.

"It's never enough!" she cried. "I want you every day, all day. I can't stop myself. What have you done to me?"

Her confession was like a key, her words forcing Remus over the cliff. He roared her name as he came, bringing his fingers to her clit to rub her fiercely so he could feel her tighten around him. He collapsed on top of her, spent, but remained inside of her until she was still, her breath choppy as her heartbeat slowed.

"So …" Sirius spoke up from across the room, having pulled on his jeans sans boxers. "Any chance you picked up dinner while you were out, Moony?"

* * *

 

They ate sandwiches and pasta salad, the three of them having a makeshift picnic in Remus' bed before Sirius tackled Hermione and had his way with her. Watching the two of them come together made Remus hard. He spent the next thirty minutes getting Hermione excited, backing off just before she let go, repeating the pattern until Sirius was ready for another round, this time all three of them.

Hermione fell asleep face down on Remus bed, her head covered by her hair. Sirius kissed her bare shoulder and snuck out of the bed for a drink. Remus stayed with their witch a little longer, but then the familiar stirrings of excitement started and he knew she needed to rest, at least for a bit, before he took her again.

Piling their dinner leftovers on a tray, Remus levitated it down to the kitchen. Sirius sat at the table scribbling something on a piece of parchment, the owl from the florist perched on the back of one of the chairs. Remus looked over Sirius' shoulder. "Why are you sending flowers to Luna?"

"Because, my dear Moony, we owe the lovely witch for sharing some important information with our Hermione," Sirius signed his name with a flourish. He glanced over and answered his unasked question. "She's the one who suggested where Hermione shop for the additions to her wardrobe."

"The lingerie?"

"And last night's outfit."

Remus knew there was a reason he had a soft spot for the dreamy blond. Taking the self-inking quill and parchment from Sirius, he added his name to the note. "Is there a reason you're sending them to her flat tonight instead of the office tomorrow?"

"Draco has dinner at Luna's on Wednesdays."

Remus shook his head. "You'll never let a chance to get under his skin pass you by, will you?"

"Where's the fun in that?"


	17. Chapter 17

Remus made his way to the study, but stopped just before he got to the door. He turned to take the stairs to his room, but turned again after a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair. The sun would set soon. He was anxious, agitated and annoyed. Now was not the time to start a conversation that had the potential to blow up in his face and yet ...

He walked into the study. "I want to be in the cage tonight."

Sirius looked up from the paperwork the Hogwarts Board of Governors had owled over that afternoon. There were quite a few Muggleborns starting Hogwarts in September, some who could pay tuition and others who needed help. He'd make sure any student who needed funds to get their education was covered, no matter which house they were sorted into. "There's no way Moony is restless," he replied, not wanting to admit his own exhaustion.

"It's not him." Remus sat in the armchair near Sirius' desk. "Well, it's partly him and partly me."

Sirius shook his head. "Did you know you and Hermione argue with yourselves the same way? If you’re wondering if it’s endearing, it isn’t. It's annoying."

"She's the reason I want the cage."

"You think she won't last one night without us and will get kinky in the middle of the night?"

"I'm worried Moony won't like a night without her.”

Sirius looked concerned. "She's been home on the full moon before and you haven't felt the need to be in the cage. Did you take your potion?"

"Of course I took my potion!"

When the members of the Wizengamot finally got their heads out of their assess – Sirius' words – and overturned most of the prejudiced laws passed under Cornelius Fudge's leadership, including all anti-werewolf legislation, one of the stipulations was making Wolfsbane available to the werewolf population. Since Remus no longer lost control of his thoughts after his transformation, most of the safety features he installed in the basement at Grimmauld Place during the height of the second war were unnecessary. Sirius still kept the werewolf company in his Animagus form, but the only security measure they used were wards on the door.

"So what's different?"

Remus didn't answer. He wished he hadn't mentioned anything in the first place.

"Moony?"

He mumbled something under his breath.

"Huh?"

"WhatsdifferentisIloveher."

"What?"

Remus leapt to his feet and slammed his hands on Sirius' desk. "What's different is I love her! I've spent the last three nights buried inside her in one way or another, and I'm afraid the wolf is going to remember how good she feels and want to stake his claim!"

Sirius was oddly calm. "You love her?"

"Shit! I … full moon … the wolf …” Remus ran a hand through his hair. “I didn't want to blurt it out like that."

Sirius smirked. "Then it's a good thing you told me and not Hermione, huh?"

"Don't make a joke out of this, Padfoot."

"Who's joking? I've never told a woman I loved her before, but I'm pretty sure most don't picture a man yelling it in frustration."

Remus knew what Sirius was doing. Trying to make light of a tense situation was his defense mechanism. He claimed he wasn't wired for serious moments, despite his name; a comment that never failed to make Hermione groan.

 _Hermione_.

He knew this was going to happen. He cared about her; he had for years. The moment she agreed to a physical relationship, it was like an hourglass had been turned and it was only a matter of time before caring and lust evolved into something more. He saw it coming and still jumped in without concern for the other parties involved, and now everything was fucked. "Say something, Padfoot."

Sirius shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "You already said it; you love her."

"You do, too," Remus insisted. It wasn't an act of desperation. He _knew_ Sirius. He knew he loved the witch even if he was too damn stubborn to admit it, even to himself. "Sirius, it's okay," Remus spoke quietly. "The world won't stop spinning if you admit you have feelings for her."

Sirius shook his head, suddenly wishing he'd taken McGonagall up on her offer to have an office at Hogwarts. Then he'd be there, not here. Anywhere was better than here.Yes, he had feelings for her. Yes, sex with Hermione was more amazing than he could ever imagine. Yes, she had ruined him for all other women. Yes, he was perfectly content to just be in the same room as her, even if they weren't touching, though the thought of that happening filled him dread. He couldn't go back to just being her housemate.

"Sirius."

"You said you want to claim her," he hissed angrily, not quite understanding why he was mad. He felt like one of those water globe things Hermione put out at Christmas. One second, all was right in the world and the next someone picked him up, shook him furiously, and he had to wait for things to settle once more.

Remus stared at him. "What?"

"Just now," Sirius continued, his temper beginning to show. "You said the reason you want the cage is because you're afraid Moony will remember what it's like to be with Hermione and stake his claim. Claim! That's a singular action, Remus!"

He shook his head. "I didn't mean it like that. It was a figure of speech."

"Is it?"

"Yes! We agreed to pursue her together. I'm not asking you to bow out now. I wouldn't do that!"

"But Moony –"

"Fuck him! He doesn't control me."

Sirius knew Remus still struggled to accept the lot life handed him when he was only a boy. He no longer walked around like condemned man, convinced he didn't deserve any of the good things that came his way, but that didn't mean he was going to wear a "Werewolves are awesome" T-shirt, either. (He knew that because he had several made for Remus' birthday last year. Hermione used hers as a nightshirt. Remus' was still in the box on the top shelf of his wardrobe.) Hermione had a theory that is Remus would simply accept the fact that he's a werewolf and cease cursing what he can't change; his life would be less stressful. The few times she tried to talk to him about it either ended with Remus leaving the room or a shouting match that made life at Grimmauld Place tense for several days.

"He many not control you, but his instincts –"

"They're wrong."

Sirius furrowed his brow. "Are they? Every time I leave a mark on Hermione, you have to, too."

Remus closed his eyes. It was true. If he saw bite marks on Hermione's skin that didn't come from his teeth, a bruise his lips or fingers didn't cause, he was filled with a possessive urge to make his presence known.

"Moony." Sirius' tone was pleading. This was new territory, for both of them. He didn't want to lose Hermione, but he didn't want to lose Remus, either. The years he spent in Azkaban, mourning James, thinking Remus betrayed them all … he couldn't, he _wouldn't_ , go through that again.

Remus shook his head. "I don't know, Padfoot, all right? What I feel when I see your mark, it's instinctual."

"Is she your mate?"

He rolled his eyes at that. Sirius and James had stumbled across a book of werewolf lore fourth year and spent the better part of fall term teasing him about his supposed other half. He admitted to being curious, but the time he spent in werewolf packs taught him that the concept of mate was more fairy tale than fact. Two werewolves might be drawn to each other, but that was it. He'd never heard of a werewolf falling for a human and vice versa, nor would he want to. He didn't care how much his wolf craved a certain woman. He would not damn her to satisfy his urges.

"She's mine, Padfoot, just like she's yours," he said solemnly. "I know that. You know that."

"And the wolf?"

"Fuck the wolf. He'll figure it out."

Sirius smirked at that. "And Hermione?"

Remus sighed, almost wishing she was his mate so he could spin some tale about how he'd die if she didn't agree to spend the rest of her life with him. Then again, wizards have used the brink of death story to try and get witches to do all sorts of things with little success. "Let's get through the next few days and go from there."

"Works for me," Sirius agreed, amendable to putting uncomfortable things off as long as possible.

* * *

 

"What the hell, Granger?"

Hermione choked on her water as an irate Draco Malfoy appeared at their table. Ignoring the looks his outburst caused from others in the restaurant, the blond wizard bent down to kiss Luna’s cheek before resuming his glare.

"I'm sorry?"

"You should be.” He snapped his fingers to conjure a chair. Taking a seat, he reclined slightly, one arm extending to rest on the back of Luna's chair.

Hermione wasn't fooled by his casual stance. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really?" he sneered. "You don't know why your housemates felt the need to send flowers to my girlfriend?"

Hermione turned toward Luna, confused. "Remus and Sirius sent you flowers?" She nodded. "Why?"

"To say thank you."

Hermione cocked her head. "'To say thank you?' Why would they - _Oh_."

Luna giggled quietly. Pansy rolled her eyes and lifted a hand to signal the waiter for another glass of wine. Draco watched all three of them darkly.

"What do you mean by 'Oh'?"

Hermione blushed. There was no way she was going to tell him the flowers were in appreciation of Luna's knowledge of lingerie and other sexually-related clothing. It was none of his business. Also, Luna had made enough comments over the years to give Hermione an unwanted glimpse of her relationship with Draco. She did not need to have any of the images in her head confirmed or denied. What she needed was to have them _Obliviated_.

It was kind of Remus and Sirius to send Luna flowers, though it probably would have made more sense to have them delivered at the office. She smiled sweetly at the blond still scowling at her. It must have been Sirius' idea. He loved annoying Draco. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," she told him.

He opened his mouth to retort, but Luna placed her hand over his and squeezed gently. They locked eyes. A minute later, the pair excused themselves. Hermione and Pansy watched as the couple made their way to the exit. They turned towards each other with similar looks of horrified fascination.

"Do you think they'll be back?" Hermione asked.

Pansy sipped her wine. "Luna left her purse."

"That almost makes it worse, knowing ..." she trailed off. Neither woman wanted to think about what the couple could be doing - most like _was_ doing - within the vicinity of Diagon Alley's newest restaurant.

"So," Pansy started, "now that Draco is occupied, how are your men?"

"Tense."

Now it was Pansy's turn to choke on her wine. "How is that even possible."

Hermione blushed. "I didn't mean tense like that! I meant tense like knowing there's a long night ahead and there's nothing they can do about it."

"You mean there's nothing you can do about it," Pansy teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was some truth to Pansy's statement. Both Remus and Sirius had been oddly quiet when she got home from work that evening. She fixed them a light supper like she did the night of every full moon, joining them at the kitchen table while they ate.

_"Not hungry?" Sirius asked when she sat with only a mug of tea._

_"I'm going to dinner with Luna and Pansy."_

_Remus looked up from his bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup. "And after dinner?"_

_She smiled at his poor attempt at casual. "I believe tonight will be a quiet night. I'm knackered."_

_"I can't imagine why," Sirius snorted._

_She rolled her eyes, but noted how Remus seemed less tense after hearing she wouldn't be going the bars with her friends that night. Even prior to whatever it was they were doing, he didn't like Hermione to go out during the full moon, knowing there was no way he could get to her if she needed him. He never said so, of course, but Hermione knew it. She'd never admit it, but that always made her feel safe and protected._

_Of course, if he ever **told** her to stay home during the full moon, she'd hex him._

_Remus hugged her before he went down to the basement. That wasn't new, but the way he held her was. She expected him to be rough, possessive, but instead he was almost reverent. He had knocked on her bedroom door and when she opened it, he took her in his arms and pulled her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head, saying nothing for several minutes. When he pulled away, it was to place a gentle kiss on her forehead, nose and lips before telling her good night and leaving._

_Sirius' good bye was rough and possessive. He, too, knocked on her door, but when she opened it, he had her in his arms and up against the wall before she even said hello. His kiss was firm, demanding, and she responded in kind, moaning as his hand made its way between the gap in her robe to knead her breast._

_"I can't wait to be with you," he breathed against her lips. "I was fine with letting Moony run the show, but now it's my turn."_

_"What does that mean?" she asked, gasping when his hand slid from her breasts to in-between her thighs, cupping her intimately. She barely caught the roguish look on his face before he bent his head to take a nipple in his mouth just as he slid two fingers inside of her, chuckling when he found her wet and wanting. That's how he wanted her. Always. Pumping his fingers slowly, he watched her eyes darken as desire consumed her._

_"Ride my hand, Hermione," he growled against her breast before turning his attentions to her other nipple. "I want you to find it. I need you to find it. Come on, princess."_

_He didn't speak after that. He was too busy kissing, licking and biting her nipples as his fingers moved in and out of her in a steady rhythm. She quickened, her breath coming faster, his name falling from her lips as she pumped her hips. She was so close, it was right there, but she couldn't ... He added his thumb to press against her clit and she cried out, her body going tense before she practically melted on the floor. Sirius swept her into his arms and carried her to her bed, holding her, pressing light kisses all over her face, as she recovered. When she opened her eyes, he was smiling at her._

_"That's what I'll remember for the rest of the night."_

_Shifting her to the bed, he stood up, leaning over to kiss her one last time._

_"Be good."_

She was good, not that she had a reason to act otherwise. Luna's lips were slightly swollen when she returned to the table, but she told Hermione Draco was no longer upset about the flowers. Hermione didn't want to know more, so she quickly changed the subject and they finished their meal without further interruptions. After splitting a piece of chocolate marble cheesecake, the three witches left the restaurant and went their separate ways: Luna to Draco's club, Pansy home to Ron, and Hermione to Grimmauld Place where she ditched her white maxi dress and black Grecian-style sandals for a well-worn T-shirt and thick socks.

Thirty minutes after climbing into bed, Hermione was asleep, the bedside lamp still on and a book resting on her stomach. That's how Sirius found her when he peeked into her bedroom shortly after dawn. He placed the book on her nightstand and flicked the light off. He slid in-between the sheets and burrowed against her back, burying his face in her curls with a contented sigh.

"Sirius?"

"Shh. Go to sleep, princess."

"Mm-kay."

* * *

 

Remus watched them from the doorway, a pair of tattered trousers low on his hips. He was tired. He was sore. He knew he should go to his room and sleep off the worst of the aches, but the image Hermione and Sirius made tempted him. There was room for him on Hermione's right. Already the three shared a bed as if they'd done so for years. He took a step towards the bed and hesitated.

Her eyes opened, as if she sensed him. Saying nothing, she lifted the sheets in silent invitation. Her gaze never wavered as he stripped to navy blue boxers and joined them. He felt her fingers thread through his, heard her say his name on a sigh and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back in the day, Shaya Lonnie, Worthfull1 and I wrote one shots about the other couples in this story. If you haven't read them, make sure you do!
> 
> Hermione and Marcus by me: Playing the Part  
> Pansy and Ron by Worthfull1: Playing for Keepers  
> Luna and Draco by Shaya Lonnie: Prior to Playing


	18. Chapter 18

The sun was shining when Sirius opened his eyes. He knew this because there was about an inch of sunlight streaming through Hermione's curtains that settled directly on his face. He waved a hand to close the curtains, but they didn't move. He tried again. Nothing.

"They have a sticking charm," Remus muttered into his pillow.

"What?"

The werewolf raised his head slightly. His eyes were bleary, his face pale. He didn't know how long he'd been asleep, but he knew it would be hours before he felt halfway decent. "She placed a sticking charm on the curtains so they won't close completely," he repeated, using every bit of his energy to pass along the information before dropping his head on one of Hermione's pillows. Fuck, he was tired. He hoped Hermione didn't have plans that involved being in her room that day. He was pretty sure it would be nighttime before he had the energy to drag himself to his own bed.

"Why would she do that?" Sirius wondered aloud.

"She doesn't like the dark," Remus mumbled. "Nightmares."

"Still?" This was news to Sirius. He knew she had nightmares often following the war, as her screams would pull him from his own terrors on the nights she forgot a silencing spell. They spent a lot of late nights together on the couch in the study together, neither one willing to let the other battle their demons alone. As time went on, though, her late night horrors diminished, as did his. They would never be gone completely, but he learned not to be afraid of what he'd see when he closed his eyes.

He had no idea she was still scared. The thought of her being awake at night, alone and afraid, made him angry. He would take care of her. He would always take care of her. She had to know that. "Moony," he hissed. "Hey, Moony?"

"Hmm?"

"How’d you know this and I didn't?"

Remus didn't raise his head, but he did open one eye and still somehow managed to look at him wryly. "Are you kidding? You want to start keeping score of what we know about her?"

Sirius shrugged. Yesterday's conversation was still fresh in his mind.

"I don't remember how I know. Ask her," he suggested around a yawn. "Better yet, go and do something with her and let me sleep."

Sirius smirked. "With her or to her?"

"I don't care; just go."

Sirius rolled out of the bed and, feeling charitable, straightened the covers over his weary friend. "We'll check on you later, Moony!"

"Mmm-hmm."

* * *

She was in the house. Back when Grimmauld Place was the Order's headquarters, he and Remus had taken a piece from their Marauder past and devised a charm to alert them as to who was in the house and where at all times. It came in handy when people needed to be found quickly. The few times they caught Ginny sneaking into Harry's room and vice versa were an added bonus, though Harry certainly didn't think so when Sirius insisted on giving him "the talk." Remus was in complete support until he learned he was expected to be present, too.

_"Why do I have to be here? You're his godfather!" Remus grumbled as he paced Sirius' bedroom._

_"You're the one who insisted we confront him," Sirius reminded him._

_"I was thinking of Lily!" Remus exclaimed. "She would not want her son sneaking in to a girl's room in the middle of the night like some ..."_

_"Like some hormonal Potter?"_

_Remus smirked at that. "James would be proud."_

_Sirius' smile was sad as he thought of their best friend. "Yes. Yes, he would. And he'd insist that Harry got the talk, so we'll do it for him."_

Sirius walked to his bathroom to shower and change, knowing that if Hermione was reading in the library, she'd still be there when he got out and he could talk her into doing something, just the two of them. The ideas he had didn't involve leaving the house, but it would probably be good to do just that; switch things up a bit. That last thing he wanted was to be predictable.

* * *

Hermione heard footsteps on the stairs and deduced that it was Sirius, as Remus rarely moved the day following the full moon. She'd actually rolled on top of him in order to get out of bed that morning and he didn't budge, the act making her giggle as she dug through her wardrobe for clothing. Of all the positions she'd found herself in since sleeping with Remus and Sirius, actually sleeping with them had to be the craziest, especially when she woke up first and needed to untangle herself from them and complete some sort of athletic move in order to leave the bed.

The clothes she picked out for the day were still neatly folded on the coffee table in front of her. She needed a shower, but didn't want to take one in her bathroom and risk waking up her wizards. She probably could have showered in one of their bathrooms, but it felt wrong to do so without asking first. Now that Sirius was awake, though ... Smiling, she put down the book, gathered her clothing and walked upstairs to his bedroom. Placing everything on his bed, including the shirt and knickers she'd slept in the night before, she continued to his bathroom and pushed open the door, sighing at the view of Sirius Black's naked backside as he soaped himself in the shower. The man was gorgeous, from his thick dark hair to the tips of his toes. Tan skin, defined muscles, tattoos ... He was six feet of pure sin.

"I can feel you staring, princess," he teased without turning around. "Anything I can help you with?"

She bit her lower lip, considering several responses before deciding it was silly to try and play games when both of them were already naked. Pulling open the glass door to oversized shower, she slid inside, pressing against his back, ignoring his hiss as the warmth of his body and the heat of the water drove away the chill she didn't notice while she was ogling him.

"Damn, woman! Give a man some warning, will you?"

"I can leave.” She loosened her hold, laughing as his arm shot out to pull her in front of him, the water cascading down her face as he smiled down at her.

"For someone so smart, you have some stupid ideas," he told her before bending down to kiss her, the force of his lips against hers increasing as she pressed herself closer.

One night. She'd lasted one night without them on top of her, underneath her, inside her, and it felt like a lifetime ago. Wrapping her arms around Sirius' neck, her hands playing with the ends of his wet hair, Hermione knew she was in trouble. She wasn't playing around with Remus and Sirius. They weren't simply sleeping together or even dating. She loved them. Both of them. She loved Sirius for his infinite kindness and need to take care of those he loved, as well as his playfulness and "fuck 'em all" attitude, just as she loved Remus for his intelligence and bravery, and his ability to maintain control when the world was crashing down around him. She loved their strength, their loyalty, and the way they refused to let their past define their future. They were two halves of the same coin, the yin to the other's yang. Each had aspects of their personality that spoke to Hermione. She could spend hours curled next to Remus, each of them absorbed in a book. And she loved when Sirius would pull her from the house to spend an evening with friends at some pub.

She pressed closer to Sirius, her lips rough against his as the urge to shout her feelings threatened to take over. Gods, how she wanted to scream it, to announce it to the world: Hermione Granger loved Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. The Gryffindor Princess was in love with two Marauders. The brightest witch of her age hopelessly adored a werewolf and ex-convict.

Rita Skeeter would have a field day.

"Where are you?" Sirius pulled back slightly and frowned at Hermione. In seconds, her behavior had switched from playful to desperate.

"I'm here," she promised, tightening her grip on his neck so she could pull his mouth to hers, but he refused. Instead, he slid his hands down her back to cup her bum, his hands kneading the flesh as he laid his forehead against hers, his gray eyes dark with lust.

"I dreamt about this ass," he told her. "Even before I saw it, the night you attacked Moony, your dress hiked up to your waist so I could see your pretty red knickers, I wanted it. I'd watch you walk around the house in your jeans or shorts, and I wanted to feel my hands on it, to grab and grip you as I am right now. I wanted to lay you out over my lap and spank you until it turned such a pretty shade of pink. You like it when I do that, don't you, princess? You like being under my hand?"

She moaned, remembering how it felt when he "punished" her, not that what he did could ever be considered punishment. It felt so good to give herself to him, to them, to let them take control and know that while both men would push her, they'd never go too far. She'd been in control for so long. With him, with Remus, she could finally let go and trust someone else to make the decisions. She had no idea how much she wanted that, how much she needed it, until they gave it to her.

"Talk to me, Hermione," he whispered, lifting her so she was eye-level with him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her ankles locking at his back as he pressed kisses along her jaw line and down her neck. "Tell me what you like, how we make you feel."

"So good," she moaned, her head falling back as he ran his tongue along her neck, sucking the water from her skin that continued to fall over them.

He chuckled. "I know you can do a better job, princess. Tell me what it was like when I undressed you, when I took off that naughty costume and presented you to Moony. Did it make you excited, knowing he was watching as more of your gorgeous skin was revealed?"

"Yes …"

"Why?" Sirius pressed her against the shower wall, pushing his body against hers as he stared at her, his jaw tense with desire.

"Because … because there was nothing I could do," she confessed, sighing when he began rocking against her, his thick, hard cock brushing against her wet heat. "I was in your hands, his eyes, and all I wanted was for you to touch me."

"Why?"

"Because I love when you touch me," she admitted. "You make me feel beautiful, feel wanted and desired." Feel loved, she added to herself.

"You are beautiful, Hermione," Sirius murmured, his strokes against her gaining strength and speed. "You are so wanted and so desired. I don't know how we went this long without touching you. Having you in my arms, in my bed – it's stronger than any potion. You've bewitched me, princess." He moved a hand down to grasp his cock, teasing her entry with the tip, her groan making him even harder. "I'm going to take you, Hermione. I'm going to fuck you against this shower and then I'm going to lick you clean before taking you to my bed and fucking you once more."

"Sirius," she groaned.

"Is that what you want? Do you want me to take you like I described or do you want something else? Do you want sweet? I can be sweet, baby. I love having you hard, but I love taking you slow, too, feeling your whole body wrap around me, hearing you sigh my name as you come."

"Yes," she hissed.

"Or do you want to play?" Sirius leered as he slid inside her, holding still despite her attempts to find the leverage she needed to move up and down his body, despite the voice in his head screaming at him to rut against her like an animal until he was empty. He didn't miss the way she quivered at his last question. "That's it, isn't it? You want to play."

She groaned in response, his words affecting her just as much as his hard cock. She wanted him in every way he described: hard, soft, playful. She wanted to feel his hands on her bottom again. She wanted to hear his groans as he saw his handiwork, felt how excited it made her. She wanted his tongue on her, licking up every drop of excitement, and she wanted to be on top of him when he finally succumbed to his pleasure.

Her eyes popped open when he pulled out of her suddenly, stepping back to help her slide along the wall until she was standing on her own two feet. "What are you …"

His smile was dark. Lethal. Dangerous. "You wanted to play, princess. Let's play."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are going to probably slow down as I've reached the heavy editing portion of the story.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have quite a few chapters of this story written, but reading them over, they are too similar to Get Busy Living. I haven't had the urge to rewrite them, hence the long silence, but today the urge struck, so here's a chapter.
> 
> I hope all of you are well! 
> 
> P.S. This chapter is NSFW.

In the long list of words that had been used to describe Sirius Black over the years – attractive, charming, wild – patient never made the cut. When people looked at Sirius, they saw a man who embraced the Gryffindor practice of act now, think later. Fire, ready, aim. His body bore the marks of this philosophy, from the faded Azkaban prisoner number tattooed on his flesh to the scars received in duels, fistfights, potions mishaps, and that one time Hermione threw a plate at him when she discovered he found the stash of Christmas cookies she was saving for Boxing Day.

But he could be patient. With time – he _refused_ to say "with age" – he learned to appreciate the fine art of waiting for an opportunity rather than forcing it. It served him well with the charity boards he sat on, the Wizarding legislation he supported, and getting back into Hermione's good graces. And, of course, it was a must-have skill in the bedroom.

Sirius always had patience when it came to women. Even as a teenager, he recognized that the chase was just as important as sex. The thrill of the pursuit was among the greatest high known to man, be it Muggle or wizard, and it made the eventual conquest that much sweeter. There was never a doubt that the conquest wouldn't end in victory. He was Sirius Black, after all.

It was this philosophy Sirius was clinging to like a lifeline as he licked his way along Hermione's naked body, sucking and swallowing the droplets of water that clung to her skin after he dragged her from the shower and on to his bed. He knew when he told her that they were going to play that she expected something hard, something fast; something that would take her breath away in mere minutes. He was going to leave her breathless, but he was going to take his time doing it.

"Sirius," she pleaded, her hips lifting in a not-so-subtle offering.

He knew what she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted his fingers, his mouth, his cock in her pussy that was already swollen with need. He could smell her excitement. He could see the wetness flowing from her that has nothing to do with the shower they shared minutes before. A lesser man – again, not younger; _lesser_ – would not be able to ignore such an offering. He'd take, hopefully give, and while Hermione would be happy, that wasn't Sirius' goal. He wanted ecstatic and satisfied, unable to walk and ruined for all other men, rapturous and don't-ever-let-me-go.

He slowly made his way back up her body, chuckling at the sound of her giggle when his tongue dipped into her navel before spending an ungodly amount of time at her breasts. Gods, her tits were fantastic. They were round and fit perfectly in his hands, with nipples that begged for a man's tongue. He loved the sounds she made as he suckled, nibbled, twisted and bit her little buds until they were rock hard. Her whimpers went straight to his cock. Her sighs made him feel ten feet tall. Her gasps drove him to repeat whatever he did that ended with her hands in his hair, her grip almost painful, as she thrust her chest closer to his mouth.

He loved how responsive she was. He had no idea, absolutely none, that the witch who starred in his most erotic dreams for longer than he cared to admit would be such a wildcat in bed. He knew she had a temper – he bore a small scar just below his left ear because of it – and had hoped that her fire continued in the bedroom, but Hermione's response to him, to Remus, went beyond anything he imagined and everything he wished for. She could take them. She could handle the two of them together without blinking an eye. She didn't shy away from either of their dominant tendencies. In fact, she embraced them. Remembering how she gasped the first time he struck her heart-shaped bottom made him even harder.

He would never let her go. He knew that as emphatically as he knew his own name. She belonged to him. She belonged to Remus. They would love her until they day they died and then they would find a way to love her after that. He was completely prepared to spend the rest of his life showing her how much she meant to him, whether it was foot rubs after a hard day at work, a cinnamon roll every Sunday morning, tying her to the bed and fucking her until she passed out from pleasure, or taking her languidly, sweetly, on the cool grass under the stars on a warm summer night. He wanted all of that with her. He didn't care if she wasn't there yet. He'd wait. He could be patient if it meant eventually getting what he wanted.

And right now, he wanted her.

He was killing her. When he turned off the water and pulled her out of the shower, forgoing towels, she assumed she was in for a fast, hard fuck – not that she would have minded or complained. His words while the water drenched them and steam surrounded them filled her with desire. She was ready to come, she needed to come, and she braced herself for his hard thrust. Instead, he kissed her; gently, softly, his lips and tongue trailing all over his body as if he had all of the time in the world, that he couldn't hear her panting or feel the thundering beat of her heart, the trembling of her thighs. She couldn't remember the last time she was this wet, and still he nuzzled and licked, his lips deliberately missing where she wanted them the most.

"Sirius," she begged, hating the whine in her voice as she pulled on the damp strands of his dark hair. She could feel him smile as he pulled her nipple into his mouth, his tongue circling the small bud while his fingers pinched her other nipple, already hard and wet from his earlier administration.

"What do you need, princess?" he asked, letting her go with a soft pop. Propping himself up on one arm, he brushed a damp curl from her face, bending down to lick the trail of water it left on her neck.

"Gods!" she cried, arching to give him better access. "Please! Please fuck me!"

He pulled back, the look on his face difficult to decipher. Was he angry? Disappointed? Was this a game? Had he taken on a role and she was expected to play along? She shivered in anticipation.

"Who do you belong to?" he asked quietly.

She swallowed. "You. And Remus."

"When you're in need, who takes care of you?"

"You do."

He raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Remus," she said almost breathlessly.

"What did I tell you we were going to do?" he asked, moving to get off the bed and stand by the side, giving one fierce shake of his head when she moved to do the same.

"Play," she whispered, the beating of her heart echoing in her head. He had to hear it, too.

The look on his face was pure arrogance. For one brief second, she could see a bit of Slytherin in him, the small part he fought against every day. What would he say if she told him she loved that about him? That his strength to turn his back against generations of history to do what he felt was right –

"Hands and knees!"

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You aren't here, Hermione," he growled. "I can see when you're thoughts stray, when your mind is focused on something else and not what we're doing here." He stalked away and she scrambled to her knees, afraid he'd leave but he stopped, turned around, breathing heavily as if he'd just run a race. "Fuck! Do you have any idea – " he broke off with a fierce shake of his head. She watched as he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them, seemingly calmer. He approached the bed once more, his movements slow and deliberate, reaching out with one hand to caress her hair.

"Hands and knees, Hermione," he repeated. His tone was less forceful, but it was still a command and she automatically scrambled to obey, squeaking in surprised when he grabbed her waist so she was positioned with her bottom directly in front of him.

"That's my girl," he murmured, running his hands over the pale flesh, making her legs quiver at his touch. She felt his lips on each globe and closed her eyes in pleasure. "I adore your body, princess, but this," he smacked her once, twice, "may just be my favorite part of you."

Three more slaps against her flesh followed his confession. Hermione's head fell forward as she focused on how it made her feel. She could feel the warmth spreading across her bottom, wetness pooling in her center. She felt tingly. Excited. He ran his hands over her once more and she instinctively pushed against him, wanting more. He chuckled and spanked her several more times, his hands never landing in the same spot twice. He could feel the blows, yet they didn't hurt. Not really. There was pain, but it was more of an ache. The tears that gathered in her eyes weren't because she wanted him to stop. They were a release. He was giving her permission to let go and it felt amazing. For so long, far too long, she had to be the strong one, the level-headed one; first with Harry and Ron, and now with Pansy, Ginny and Luna. With Remus and Sirius, she could just be and trust that they'd take care of her. She didn't have the words to tell him, to tell them, how much that meant to her.

"I love that you love this," he hissed, the bed dipping as he kneeled next to her, one hand soothing her sore bottom, the other diving into her pussy to dip his fingers in her excitement, spreading it around her nether lips. "You are so fucking wet, Hermione. Talk to me, baby. Tell me what you're feeling."

"Happy."

"I could tell that from your body's response," he smirked, his fingers still gliding over her. "What else?"

"Wanted … protected … anxious," she whispered.

"Why anxious, princess? Do I scare you?"

"No!" She moved to sit up, to face him, but a strong hand between her shoulders stopped her. "You'd never hurt me, Sirius. I know that."

"But you're anxious."

"Because I don't know what you'll do next," she breathed, wiggling her hips to increase the friction between her legs. How long? How long was he going to keep her like this?

She felt his lips on the back of her shoulders. "What do you want me to do next? Do you want me to spank you again? Do you want to be over my knees as I punish you for being a bad girl? Or …" she could practically feel his leer against her skin. "Do you want to show me that you're a bad girl?"

She was trying to figure out what he meant when he was pulling her to the bed, moving so her head was back on the pillow. He pushed himself to a standing position on the floor once again and waked to the foot of the bed.

"You told us you heard us with other women, remember?"

She nodded, blushing slightly at admission she made in the heat of the moment.

"Tell me again what you did while you listened?"

She swallowed. Sirius' gaze was hard, hungry. She wanted him. Wanted him, wanted him, wanted him. "I touched myself," she said softly. "I pretended I was the woman with you and Remus. I was the woman you were touching."

His eyes darkened even more. "Did you come?"

She nodded, remembering how she'd bite her lip to keep from screaming, unable to put up a silencing spell to camouflage her actions and still listen to what they were doing.

"Show me."

She stared at him. "What?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, completely at ease with his naked body as he stared at her. "Show me how you touch yourself when Remus and I would make another woman scream our names."

She pushed herself up on her elbows. "Why?"

"Because I asked you to."

She shook her head. "I don't want to think about you or Remus with another woman."

"I didn't ask you to do that, princess."

"But that's why I did it!" she cried. "I hated that it wasn't me! The only way to bear it was to close my eyes and pretend it was!"

He was over her, on her, in seconds. "You don't think seeing you with Flint didn't kill me? Remember the night you asked me to zip up your dress?"

_"Sirius!?"_

_He ran up the stairs, alarmed by the frantic cry. He burst into Hermione's room, wand drawn, stopping by the sight in front of him: Hermione in a white spaghetti strap V-neck dress, her hands clutched to her chest._

_"What -?"_

_"It's stuck!" she cried, turning around, her dress unzipped to the middle of her back. "I think there's something stuck because magic isn't working and Marcus will be here soon and I haven't done my hair and –"_

_The weight of his hands on her shoulders cut off her babbling. "Shh," he murmured, one hand sliding down her back to the stubborn zipper. Slowly, he lowered it down, the rough feel of his thumb on her smooth back making her skin tingle. "Sometimes," he whispered, "you need to go down before you go up."_

She raised a hand to run her fingers through his hair. "You never said anything."

His look was arrogant as he stared at her. "I'm saying it now. You're mine, Hermione. Mine and Remus'. You better get used to it." He pressed his lips to hers in a brief, hard kiss, and then pushed himself up to look down at her. "Now, stop changing the subject and touch yourself."

She smiled at him. He had no idea how to describe it. It was shy, yet seductive; innocent and evil. She kept her eyes on his as she slid one hand down her body, ever so slowly, until it hovered over her mound. She was bare. That never mattered much to him before, but right now he loved that she opted to keep the area clear, as he could see her fingers moving around her lips, spreading the wetness that had been pouring from her for the past hour.

"Damn, princess; that's so hot," he hissed, his own hand going to his cock as he watched her pleasure herself. Her eyes closed, her back arched, as she dipped along her folds, purposely avoiding her clit. He could see it. It was throbbing. One stroke, maybe two, and she'd go off like a rocket. "What did you think about? When you touched yourself, when you heard us, what were we doing to you?"

"You were licking me," she whispered. "I'd imagine your head between my legs, your tongue in me."

"I'd fuck you with my tongue?"

"Yes," she moaned. "Gods, Sirius …"

"And Moony?"

"He'd be at my breasts, his hand moving down to cup my bottom … his fingers … I needed to be ready."

Sirius closed his eyes, picturing what she described. He wanted that. The minute Remus was on his feet, he would make sure the werewolf was on his back, making their witch moan, just like she was now. He opened his eyes just in time to see her forefinger and thumb circle her clit. "Stop!"

She did, her eyes snapping open. "Why?"

He let go of his cock and settled on the bed, his head between her legs. "Your orgasms belong to me."

With that declaration, he dipped his head and licked, Hermione immediately wailing his name as the orgasm burst out of her. He didn't stop tasting her, his tongue slurping up every drop of cream as she panted, her knees falling open wider. "Again," he demanded, ignoring the grip on her hair as she tried to pull him away from her.

"Sirius, I can't. It's too soon."

"Again!" he growled, his tongue and fingers already coaxing her to the brink. Her hold on his hair loosened as she gave in the pleasure once more, her hips moving with him. "So responsive," he murmured in appreciation. "Fucking perfect, princess. You are so fucking perfect."

He slid two fingers inside of her. Her pussy gripped him, her vaginal walls clamping down as her body prepared itself for release. Why couldn't this last longer? All he wasn't was to see her come again and again and again.

"Sirius. Sirius. Sirius." His name was like a prayer on her lips, a constant chat in tune with the thrust of his fingers.

"Just like that," he encouraged, lifting his head slightly so he could look at her. Her head was thrashing from side to side on the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut. Her cheeks, her chest were flushed. She was so damn gorgeous. "You're close, baby. I can feel it. Come for me. Come for me so I can slide inside you. Fuck, baby, please come for me!"

He lowered her head and drew her clit into his mouth, sucking hard as she shouted her release, her body bowing off the bed. He rode her through it, his fingers continuing to pump inside of her as she came down. He placed a soft kiss on her clit before he moved back, removing his fingers from her, licking her essence off as he moved over her body. Her eyes were wide, dazed, as she watched him.

"So fucking sweet," he growled before he kissed her, forcing her to taste herself on him. She didn't pull away. Instead, she moaned appreciatively and sucked on his tongue, stroking it with her own. He swallowed her gasp as he slid inside of her, his hips thrusting in a hard, steady rhythm. "Yes," he groaned. "Yes, yes, yes!"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts.

"You're so small, princess," he rasped, his breath heavy and warm against her neck. "So fucking tight and so fucking wet."

"Harder!"

He complied, digging his toes into the bed to give him more leverage. He needed to be in her deeper, harder. He sucked on her neck, his lips leaving small bruises on her skin, the marks of their previous trysts still visible. Each pump into her body moved her further up the bed, but she never told him to stop. Instead she repeated the words harder, faster, Sirius and yes over and over again.

"I'm close, princess," his voice was desperate. It never felt like this before. He never felt like this before. "Come with me, baby!"

She did, his name a whisper on her lips as the world exploded around her. He clasped her closer to him as he pumped his hips, her walls gripping him so tight, it was almost painful. His orgasm was the strongest of his life. He shuddered with the release, his arms no longer able to hold him up as he emptied into her. He collapsed, his head resting on her chest as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I love you."


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still NSFW
> 
> I forgot the purpose of this story was to write all the smutty scenes I never got to in Get Busy Living. Ha!

She didn't know what to say. At first, she thought she imagined Sirius' whispered confession, but she felt him stiffen shortly after the words left his mouth, as if he was waiting for her to say something in response. She wanted to. Gods, the words were on her lips. She opened her mouth to speak them aloud, but something stopped her. It wasn't that she didn't love him. She did. She had loved him for years and in the past few weeks had it evolved from friendship to something more, something deeper, but her feelings weren't reserved for Sirius alone. She loved Remus, too. She couldn't imagine loving one and not the other. Would Sirius understand that? Would Remus? Could she truly have both of them forever?

"Sirius …"

He lifted his head, his expression cocky as he grinned at her despite the worry in his eyes. "Princess."

"I …" she trailed off, not sure what to say, so she grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him. He responded by rolling until she was on top of him, her legs tangled with his, his hands stroking her back as he returned her affections. After a few minutes, he pulled away, his hands brushing her hair back from her face as he smiled gently at her.

"You need to talk to Remus."

"I just … Remus … you … us …"

He placed a finger over her lips and shook his head. "Don't," he asked. "Don't say anything now. Talk to Remus."

* * *

 

She stood outside her bedroom door, a tray carrying Remus' lunch floating behind her. She often brought him lunch in bed the day after the full moon. This wasn't new and yet today she couldn't make herself push open the door. Why was this bothering her? She should be ecstatic Sirius that said the words, essentially opening the door for her to return his affections. She knew Remus cared about her. That was obvious in his treatment of her, even before she slept with him. The fact that he insisted that he and Sirius focus on the romantic aspect of their relationship and not the physical was proof his feeling went deeper than lust, right? But what if it didn't? What if Remus didn't feel the same as Sirius? Could she be happy with only one instead of two? Would he be able to handle seeing the two of them in a relationship? Would he expect to be included in their bedroom activities? Would Sirius expect that? Gods, how could she continue to sleep with Remus knowing sex was all it was, all it would ever be?

She could feel the beginning of a panic attack. Forcing herself to remain calm, she leaned against the door, breathing slowly in and out. Too much. She always wanted too much. It wasn't enough to be a witch; she had to be the best witch in her class. It wasn't enough to open a practice dedicated to helping people with their mental health, she had to bring the fight to St. Mungo's, to the Wizengamot, to demand that centuries of wizarding healing embrace something from her world. It wasn't enough that she had one incredibly handsome, kind, funny and sexy Marauder in love with her; she wanted two.

Breathe in, breathe out. This was Remus. _Remus_. He was her friend; he had been for years. He was not callous. If he didn't feel the same about her, she knew he would express himself in a completely respectable manner designed to let her down easy without rattling her temper.

"Screw that," she hissed, pushing herself to a standing position. She was no longer panicked. No, she was mad. _This was his fault_. She was fine just sleeping with them. That was the plan. Fuck them and get it out of her system. He was the one who insisted on romance. He was the one who spoke to her in a way that made her wet before he even touched her. He was the one who tapped into her submissive nature, the need to have someone else call the shots dormant for so long. Damn him! Damn him for being so gorgeous and strong and dominant and sweet. Damn him for making her long for him at all hours of the day. Damn him for forcing her to look beyond what she had, a life she was perfectly happy with thank you very much, and wanting more.

She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Talk to Remus, Sirius said. She would talk to Remus. She'd tell him exactly how she felt and if he couldn't handle it, if he was too stubborn to see it, then she'd live a happy life with Sirius until he fucking saw reason and maybe, just maybe, she'd forgive him.

He knew she was in the hallway. He heard her walk up the stairs, muttering under breath in that way she did when she was upset about something. She wasn't aware that she did it. Most of the time her ramblings were so soft, no one could make sense of them – he even had difficulty making out her words when his senses were amplified – but she was louder today, which meant she was mad. He wondered who ignited her temper, feeling sorry for the witch or wizard at the center of her storm.

The door opened. It didn't slam open, but she didn't peek her head in, either. He sat up as she entered her bedroom, her stride purposeful. "Hermione –"

"You need to eat," she told him, turning to grasp the tray floating behind her and settling it over his lap. "It's nearly three in the afternoon."

He looked down at the tray, which held several sandwiches, a bowl of fruit salad, water, orange juice, and tea. There also was a bowl of chocolate pudding with whipped cream on top. His mouth watered. He wanted to eat that first, but he knew Hermione would lecture him. Any other time, he might have proceeded just to get a rise out of her, but the mulish expression on her face made him leery. "Thank you," he said quietly.

She sighed, some of the stiffness leaving her shoulders. Nodding, she moved to the bathroom. He heard the bathwater start moments later, but was too busy eating to pay attention. He was still tired, but he felt better. He'd go to his room when he finished. Maybe by the time they had dinner, she'd be over whatever put her in this mood.

She walked out without saying a word, returning a few minutes later with his clothes in her arms. Still saying nothing, she carried them to the bathroom. The water had stopped running and he smelled the faint scent of lavender. "Are you finished?" she called from the bathroom.

He swallowed his last bite of pudding and looked up to reply, dropping his spoon on the tray with a clatter. She was naked. Her hair was twisted in a knot on the top of her head, several tendrils framing her face. She saw bruises on her hips; ten perfect little circles he imagined fit Sirius' fingertips.

"Remus?" she repeated, a smirk on her face as she leaned against the doorjamb nonchalantly.

He forced himself to speak. “Yes?”

"Are you finished with your lunch?"

"I am," he rasped. "Thank you."

"Good." She turned to walk back into the bathroom. Holy Merlin, there were several faint red marks on the back of her thighs and her bottom. What had she and Sirius gotten up to while he was sleeping? "Can you handle a bath? I'll wash your back."

He had moved the tray to her nightstand and tossed the covers aside before she finished speaking. She was already in the tub when he entered the bathroom, the bubbles covering most of her. She opened her eyes and watched as he slid his boxers down his long legs. Her eyes drifted over him lazily before she sat up and gestured for him to sit in front of her. He did, hissing slightly at the water's temperature. "Do you insist on taking off a layer of skin every time you bathe?"

"Poor baby," she cooed, wrapping her arms around his chest, pulling until he was reclined against her. He could feel her breasts against his back and wished their positions were switched so he could hold her and stroke her like she was touching him, but then she took a flannel from the side of the tub, soaked it, and slowly ran it over his skin. He sighed, his head falling back to rest on her shoulder.

"You are too good to me," he murmured, his eyes closed as he focused on her touch. She was kneading his muscles as she washed him, whatever potions she added to the bathwater easing his lingering aches. He often indulged in a warm bath following the full moon, but this was his first with a wet witch. He’d insist that she join him for every post-moon bath from now on. For health reasons, of course.

"I like taking care of you," she said quietly. "You rarely let me."

He snorted. If anyone refused to be cared for, it was her. "We both know that isn't true, my stubborn Hermione."

She said nothing but continued her administrations. Rather than remark on her silence, he placed his hands over hers and squeezed gently. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Was it a bad night?"

He considered the question. When it came to his transformations, he would never say there was a good night, but some were certainly better than others. Having regular access to Wolfsbane again was wonderful, as was Padfoot's company. Of course, being able to work off his excess energy prior to the full moon with the naked women currently washing his legs, her hands casually brushing against his hardening cock – he knew she did it on purpose, the little minx – helped, too.

"It was passable," he replied.

"That doesn't sound good."

He shrugged. Passable was better than it had been in the beginning, better than the years he was alone while Sirius was in Azkaban. "How about you, little one? How was your night?"

She giggled softly, remembering Draco's confrontation during dinner. "You didn't mention you and Sirius sent flowers to Luna."

Remus tipped his head back to grin at her. "Did Malfoy crash girls' night?"

"He was … concerned."

Remus closed his eyes again. "Did you tell him that our affections lie elsewhere?"

Her hands stalled. "Do they?"

Remus could hear the worry in her voice. It all made sense now – her frustration, her anger and her hesitancy. "Sirius told you he loves you, didn't he?"

She didn't reply, but he felt her nod.

"I wondered," he mused, impressed that Padfoot did it. He figured it would take Sirius longer to admit to himself that loving Hermione wouldn't hurt her.

"You knew?"

It was his turn to nod.

"Since when?"

"Since I told him yesterday that I loved you," he replied, his eyes still closed, though there was a small smile on his lips. He didn't have to be looking at her to know she was staring at him. He only hoped it was with a happy expression.

"Damn it, Remus," she shouted, smacking him in the arm, sending several inches of water splashing out of the bathtub. "I was freaked out! I couldn't say anything to him until I knew how you felt and now you …" she pushed him away and struggled to get out of the tub. Remus quickly turned around, ignoring the pain in his shoulder when he slammed it against the water spout, and grabbed her arms, keeping her still.

"I apologize for sleeping during his declaration, but I was shattered, little one." She glared at him, her arms flexing as if she wanted to hit him again. He tightened his grip, just in case. "I don't know how Sirius told you he loved you, but I have to admit this was not the way I planned on saying it the first time."

She looked curious. "Did you have a plan?"

Remus shook his head. "I finally admitted to myself, to Sirius, how I felt about you yesterday. The plan was to come up with a plan once I was up to it. Padfoot never had the best timing."

"I was mad at you," she admitted.

"I guessed you were upset about something," he said dryly. "I don't know what I did to make you made at me, but I apologize."

She sat back down in the water, dragging her legs up to her chest. Remus settled on the other side of the bathtub, shifting to the side of the water spout, his legs on either side of her. "I didn't say it back. When Sirius said he loved me, I wanted to, but I couldn't until I knew how you felt because I …" she trailed off, shrugging her shoulders.

"You wanted to wait until we were together, until you could tell both of us?"

She nodded. "Fred and George told me triads needed to find balance. I know we can't keep a running scorecard to ensure everyone remains on equal ground, but the first time I say it, I want to say it to both of you."

"Then we'll wait," Remus told her, reaching out to pull her closer to him, her legs automatically going around his waist. He buried his face in her neck and nuzzled. She smelled like lavender and vanilla. "Now, what can we do to kill time while waiting for Padfoot to get home?"

She sighed as he nibbled the lobe of her ear, one of his hands sneaking between their bodies to stroke her breasts. "Aren't you supposed to be recovering?"

"Mmm … I'll take a nap after.”

"Remus," her tone was warning as she pulled back to glare at him.

"Hermione," he echoed, pulling her back toward him so he could kiss her.

He didn't play fair. How was she supposed to leave him to rest when his tongue stroked hers the way it did? When his hands touched her body the way they did? When he moaned her name like he did? "Remus," she sighed, attempting to pull out of his hold, but admittedly not trying that hard.

"My Hermione," he whispered, trailing kisses down her neck, sucking on the bruises Sirius made earlier. "All night, little one. All night I had to be without you. I missed your scent, your touch, the way you feel in my arms. I missed opening my eyes and seeing you. I even missed your hair tickling your nose."

She rained kisses over his face, her heart jumping at his words. She felt the same. She slept, but it wasn't a deep sleep, a restful sleep, until she had Remus and Sirius next to her. They kept her safe. They kept her warm. They reminded her she wasn't alone.

He shifted, his arms going underneath her as if he meant to lift her from the bathtub. "No," she pulled out of his grasp. Any other day, yes, she would let him carry her and feel foolishly loved, but she knew he was sore and that his body needed to rest, despite the obstinate look on his face. Rising to her feet, she slid her hands down her body, the few bubbles remaining dripping into the bathwater as he looked up at her through narrowed eye. "If you want to do this, we play by my rules"

"Excuse me?"

Oh Gods, that voice! Her knees trembled but she forced herself to get out of the bathtub, wrapping a towel around her and _accioing_ another for Remus. She held it out to him. "You heard me," she said with more confidence than she felt. "If we do this, _I'm_ in charge."

He stood and took the towel, quickly wiping himself down before stepping onto the ceramic floor, tying the towel around his waist. She picked up her wand from the side of the sink to clean the water off of the floor and drain the bathtub before taking his hand and leading him back to the bed. She took the towel from him before she pushed him on to the bed, on his stomach, removing her own towel before straddling his back. Taking a page from Sirius' book, she used her lips and tongue to suck the remaining water off of his body while her hands rubbed his back, smiling at his quiet groan of appreciation. Gods, she loved his body. He was tall with a sinewy build, his strength not as obvious as Sirius', but it was there. She knew if he wanted to, he could have her flipped over and under him before she even blinked. The fact that he hadn't meant he was enjoying her touch too much to take over.

She leaned down, pressing her breasts against him as she peppered feather-light kisses to his neck. "My Remus," she sighed, her fingers trailing up and down his arms. "I've imagined you like this, on my bed, desperate for me. Only in my fantasies, you're tied to the bed, your hands immobile as I do whatever I want to you. I kiss. I tease. Maybe I'm dressed up and make you watch as I take my clothes off, slowly peeling each layer away from my body. Or maybe I'm already naked, but you can't see because of the blindfold I tied around your eyes."

She flipped her damp hair over her shoulder as she ran her tongue along the rim of his ear. "Could you handle that?" she wondered. "Would you be able to let go, to hand the control over to someone else for the night?"

She was so intent on what she was saying, on the picture she painted with her words that she missed the tensing of his muscles underneath her body. The only warning she had was the low growl in his throat before he rose to his knees, reaching one arm back to snag her by the waist and pull her underneath him. She looked up at him, gasping for air as he scowled at her.

"Witch," he hissed, one hand bracketing both of her wrists, pulling until they were over her head, the position lifting her chest in offering.

"Must you always be in control?" she teased. "Are you scared to let go, to see what could –"

He crushed his mouth to hers, her words lost as their tongues dueled for dominance, the sweetness just minutes before gone as he ran his hands down her body. She whimpered at his roughness, loving the desperation in which he touched her. He may be on top of her, but he wasn't in control. Not now. She wanted him without restraint. She didn't care what he did to her, she just wanted to feel him, to have physical proof that his want for her was equal to the desperation she felt for him.

"Remus!" she cried as he thrust two fingers inside of her without warning, his hand pumping in and out of her as his lips suckled at her breasts, his head going back and forth between her nipples. She struggled to get her hands out of his grasp so she could hold his head to her, but he only tightened his grip.

"Stay still or I will retrain you," he threatened, smirking when he felt another rush of wetness between her legs. "Oh, did I uncover another layer of my Hermione's desires? Is it really me you want tied to the bed, little girl, or is that something you want me to do to you?" He sucked her nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard bud before he let it go with a pop. "Gods, you are perfect; so fucking perfect," he proclaimed before he roughly pushed inside her.

She shouted his name, her back arching as he thrust into her. "Harder!" she yelled, forgetting that minutes before she was worried about him. "Gods, Remus, fuck me harder!"

He let go of her wrists to slide both hands under her thighs, lifting her as he knelt on the bed, pushing harder, deeper. "Never enough," he growled. "Gods, witch, I'll never get enough of you!"

She opened her mouth to repeat his words, to tell him she felt the same, but the orgasm was on her, overpowering her. Before she could say a word, he pulled out of her then, and flipped her over, his arm bringing her up on her knees before sliding into her once more. His grip on her was brutal as he pounded into her, his breath harsh, heavy. "Again, Hermione. Come again!"

She felt his teeth on her at the same time his fingers dove into her folds, fondling just above where his cock was buried deep. He bit, his teeth bruising her as he continued to thrust. "Remus," she sobbed, needing to feel his fingers on her clit. "Gods, please touch me!"

He continued to finger her, ignoring the spot she needed his fingers the most. "Who do you belong to?"

"You!"

She heard the slap on her bottom before she felt it. Tears pooled in her eyes. "Who do you belong to?" he repeated.

"You and Sirius!" she cried, repeating the words she said to Sirius hours before. She heard Remus' snarl of satisfaction just before he touched her clit, pinching the bundle of nerves between his thumb and forefinger. She yelled out as the orgasm crashed over her, Remus' roaring in response as he emptied himself into her. He kept his arms around her as he rolled to his side, throwing one leg over her, an arm tight around her waist. He nuzzled her curls. "Mine," he murmured, his hips thrusting slowly against her as he kissed the back of her neck, not wanting to stop despite the exhaustion settling over his body.

"And Sirius'," she reminded him.

"And Sirius'," he drowsily agreed.

She placed her hands over his as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "I won't let him go, Remus."

He pressed a kiss on top of her head. "I'd never ask you to."

She tightened her grip. "I won't let you go, either."

He chuckled softly. "I'd never let you."


	21. Chapter 21

Sirius watched the little girl laugh as the kite flew higher, the smile on her face mirrored by the man standing near her, his hand hovering over the spool of string she held loosely in her hands. The burst of wind that lifted the pink and yellow butterfly from the pale green grass to the blue sky arrived just as the girl began to sniffle about the kite not flying like it should.

Tucking his wand in his pocket, Sirius leaned back on the park bench and closed his eyes. He had no idea where he was going when he left Grimmauld Place; he only knew that he needed to leave before he said or did anything he'd later regret. He didn't regret telling Hermione he loved her. He did and had for some time, but the first time he told her he loved her would be the first time he told any woman he loved her. He wanted - no, he needed - to be sure his affections would be returned and while she hadn't said it back, he knew she wanted to. He couldn't explain how he knew, but looking at her in that moment, the shock of his words still visible on her face as her eyes melted, he knew the response what there. He also knew why she held herself back. Her excuse was the same reason he said it in the first place.

Remus.

He was always doing this. He was always forcing Sirius to confront situations he was perfectly happy ignoring as long as possible. He was the one who made Sirius talk to James about his feelings of abandonment after he married Lily. He was the one who make Sirius have the sex talk with Harry when it was apparent the boy was no longer a boy. He even was the one who forced him to acknowledge that his casual flirting with Hermione was more than that. When Remus admitted his feelings for the witch, Sirius knew the time he had to keep his feelings to himself was limited.

The funny thing was, he didn't panic. Much. There was an initial rush of fear when Remus first uttered the words, but that was natural. Their relationship was new. It was different. Triads might be accepted in their world, but they weren't common. As much as he cared about his, Sirius never expected to find himself willingly attached to the werewolf for the rest of his life because of their shared feelings for one witch, though it made perfect sense the more he thought about it.

Sirius hated being alone. Remus understood that. Hermione understood that. Even before their physical relationship, both accepted his need to be around others. The women he picked up at the pub did the trick, but he felt better when he was with the people he cared about, whether that was going to a Quidditch game with Harry, watching the telly while Remus read a book or sneaking into Hermione's bed after a nightmare. If Remus and Hermione were to leave him ... Sirius didn't bother finishing the thought. It was too terrible to imagine. Remus was his best friend, his brother. He wouldn't lose him; not again. And Hermione? She was unexpected. Sirius never thought he'd fall in love. He spent most of his life unattached and was fine with it, but she managed to work under his skin to the point where he couldn't imagine life without her. He was unaware how much her presence meant to him until he saw her with Flint and the idea that she might spend the rest of her life with another man became a real possibility. He didn't relish their breakup. As much as he didn't want her with Flint, he hated seeing her cry after the Quidditch player left. The anger he felt when he saw the couple having tea together in Diagon Alley was based on fear, though he had no regrets about his response to that - not when it ended with her crying his name.

Sirius shifted on the park bench, forcing the memory from his mind. Now was not the time. Opening one eye to see the little girl in her father's arms, her head having on his shoulder as she yawned sleepily, Sirius stifled his own yawn, the lack of sleep the night before catching up to him. He wondered if Harry would mind a visit that ended with him killing a couple hours napping on his couch. Pushing himself to his feet, he ambled to his motorcycle; there was only one way to find out.

* * *

 

Remus sat in the kitchen chair, watching Hermione cook with an amused expression on his face. He had wandered downstairs a few minutes earlier and offered to help, but after the third time he accidentally got in her way, she banished him to the table. Having nothing to do but look at the woman he loved, he leaned back to enjoy the view, his eyes drifting to the curve of her bottom showcased in her olive green shorts. She paired them with a V-neck tan shirt and bare feet. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a messy knot on the top of her head, several strands framing her face, the steam from the pans on the stove making the tendrils curlier than usual.

Hermione was amazing to watch in the kitchen. She threw herself in the task, like she did everything, but with a casual sense of enjoyment. She was confident in her skills and that showed in the way she used her hip to close a cupboard, tossed in spices without a measuring spoon and the quiet melody she hummed under her breath.

"Happy?"

She glanced over her shoulder, the expression on her face answering his question, but he needed the words. He'd never told a woman he loved her before. He never thought he'd be lucky enough to have a woman in his life who understood him, who accepted all aspects of his personality and still wanted to be with him.

"Hermione."

She added the rest of the pasta to the pot of boiling water and walked over to Remus, stepping between his thighs, cupping his face in her hands before she leaned down to kiss him lightly on his lips. "I'm very, very happy," she whispered, giggling when he pulled her on to his lap, her amusement turning to a sigh as he kissed her neck, finding the spot just beneath her ear that made her moan. He grinned and slid one hand under her T-shirt, smirking when his palm met bare skin.

"No bra?" he asked.

She snickered. "My clothes tend to disappear when I'm around the two of you."

He murmured in agreement, though undressing her was one of his favorite things to do. Still, as he pushed aside the cotton of her shirt in one hand, his mouth coming down to draw a nipple into his mouth, there was something to be said for convenience. He felt her hands grip his hair, her back arching to push her breast further in his mouth, gasping when she felt a second set of lips around her other nipple.

"Sirius," she sighed, one hand sliding from Remus' sandy brown hair to slide into Sirius' dark mane.

"Were you expecting someone else?" Sirius breathed against her breast.

She opened her eyes and tried to focus on him, though it was obvious by the way she was squirming that Remus was making it difficult. He pressed his lips against hers, his arms pulling her from Remus' lap to his. The werewolf let her go without a fight, leaning back to watch in amusement as the witch straddled Sirius' lap, her hips pressing against him in a way that made the Animagus groan.

"Not to kill the mood, but the last time the two of you got distracted in the kitchen, breakfast was burned," he reminded the pair after glancing at the stove to make sure their dinner wouldn't meet the same fate.

"Stasis spell," Sirius slidhis hands underneath Hermione's bottom before standing and carrying her out of the kitchen. Remus pulled out his wand to say the spell and followed.

They'd eat later.

* * *

 

Hermione whimpered as Remus lifted himself off of her, out of her, his lips soft on her shoulder before he rolled to his back with a groan. "I thought we agreed we're too old for sex on the floor," he grumbled.

"I agreed to no such thing," Sirius replied automatically, his arms coming up to wrap around Hermione's warm body. He hadn't planned on interrupting when he walked into the kitchen and Saw Remus' lips on their witch, but the urge to be part of the moment was strong. He missed her. He wanted her. He needed her.

Hermione listened to their exchange with a small smile. Remus played the age card often, usually to get a rise out of Sirius. There wasn't much that would rile the laidback wizard, but that usually did the trick. She had no idea why he let it get to him. Sirius had more energy than most men half his age. She lost count of how many times he'd brought her to orgasm that day. She wondered if their sex drive would wane with time. With two men, she was guaranteed to have a more active sex life than most witches, but surely they couldn't maintain the same level of stamina they had for the past month. Would they continue to want her as much as she wanted them?

"What are you thinking about?"

She lifted her head, one hand going out to stroke Sirius face as she considered his question. "I love you," she said quietly, her lips turning up at the widening of his eyes.

"You …" he trailed off, needing her to say it again.

She smiled in understanding. "Love you," she repeated. "I, Hermione Granger, love you, Sirius Black."

He fisted his hands in her hair, his grip eager as he raised his head and brought her forward, their eyes locked on each other. "I love you."

"I know."

"Fuck, I love confident women," he groaned just before he kissed her, the connection feeling stronger, deeper, than any kiss they shared before. She loved him.

Remus watched the pair kiss, feeling oddly relaxed. It was as if he could see Sirius' insecurities dissolve as he clutched Hermione closer to him. Rolling to his side, he propped his head up on one hand, the other going out the run along Hermione's body. She didn't say the words in her bathroom earlier, but he knew she loved him. Still, a confirmation would be nice.

"Mmm," Hermione hummed, lifting her head from Sirius to study Remus. "Hi."

"Hi."

Shifting so she slid off of Sirius and onto the wooden floor of the study, she rolled to her side facing Remus. Raising a hand, she gently traced the scars on his handsome face, ignoring his instinctual flinch. She never thought his scars took away from his looks; not once. They were part of him, as much as his intelligence, his kindness and his strength. "I love you, Remus Lupin."

His eyes closed as he allowed himself to absorb the moment. She loved him. This witch, this woman, felt for him what he felt for her and in that moment, he swore he felt the wolf sigh in approval.

* * *

 

"No regrets, little one?"

Hermione looked up from the carton of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream she was sharing with him and Sirius, nudging the latter's spoon aside as he tried to snatch the piece of brownie from her spoon. "My turn!" She ignored his feigned look of hurt as she licked her spoon clean, giving him a smug look before turning her attention to Remus. "Regrets about what?"

He leaned back in his seat. The three were sitting in the backyard, around the stone fire pit he and Sirius had built the summer before. They had eaten dinner in the kitchen, but decided to have dessert outside. It was a low-key night, perfect for Remus, who was still recovering -- but he he couldn't help but feel that Hermione deserved more. "We love you," he started.

"I know. I love you, too."

Sirius leaned over to kiss the top of her head. He'd never tire of her saying it.

"But wouldn't you, I don't know, want something grander than this?" Remus asked as he looked around the yard.

Hermione followed his gaze, not sure what he meant. He loved their backyard. It was one of her favorite things about living at Grimmauld Place. Their status as war heroes meant their request to increase the size magically was met with minimal fuss at the Ministry. Neville's love of herbology resulted in a lawn that looked like the illustrations in one of Hermione's favorite books, _The Secret Garden_. Neville stopped by every now and then to make sure she didn't neglect his hard work -- and to help himself to some of the herbs he planted.

"I'd still like a hammock if that's what you're implying," she nudged, taking the ice cream carton out of Sirius' hands. She took another spoonful of the chocolatey treat, and then held it out to Remus who waved it away. Hermione looked at Sirius who shrugged in confusion. It was rare Remus turned down chocolate. "What's wrong?"

The werewolf got up and stalked the perimeter of the yard. He felt cheated. No, he felt great, but he worried Hermione felt cheated. He was a simple man with simple needs while she … she was incredible. She deserved everything the world had to offer and more, and what did she get? Two men who declared their love for her after taking her on the floor like animals.

"Remus, you're scaring me," Hermione stood in front of him, her small hands against his chest. "What's bothering you?"

"We should have told you better," he took her hands in his and kissed the backs of each. "We should have made you a romantic dinner or taken you somewhere. We could have gone to Paris or Milan. We're wizards, for Merlin's sake! We could have made the first time we told you we loved you something you'd remember forever and instead …"

"We blurted it out while buried inside of you," Sirius finished, making Remus flinch.

Hermione burst out laughing. "What am I going to do with you?" Lifting to her tiptoes, she placed a light kiss on Remus' lips. "Remus, I don't need grand romantic gestures. If the two of you ever made a romantic dinner, I'd probably be too scared to eat it because of what happened the last time Sirius tried to cook."

"Hey!"

"And while I'd love to visit Paris and Milan with you someday, I don't need to go somewhere exotic to know what you feel for me is real. Remus, this is our home. This is where the three of us became the three of us. It's been where we've fought, where we've laughed, where we've made love and where we've done absolutely nothing." Taking his hand, she led him back to the wooden chairs surrounding the fire pit, pushing him down before settling on his lap, looping her arms loosely around his neck. "I've never been happier anywhere than I am when I'm here with the two of you." Leaning forward, she rubber her nose against his. "Stop worrying so much."

"You deserve the best," he told her.

"I have the best," she replied, one arm reaching out for Sirius, who knelt beside the chair, his head in her lap. "Besides, the last time you decided I needed romance, my sex life took a sharp decline."

Sirius smirked up at her. "Considering how that ended up, I think the sacrifice was worth it."

Remus closed his eyes, remembering how Hermione looked in the corset and skirt. "If we spend the next couple of weeks romancing you, will you wear the outfit again?"

She brushed his hair away from his face. "How about if you promise _not_ to romance me, I'll wear the outfit again?"

Sirius planted a kiss on her thigh. "I'm in. Moony?"

"Did you even have to ask?"


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! If you feel like you've read this already, you have. This was accidentally posted earlier as Chapter 21 instead of 22 and the REAL Chapter 21 stayed in draft form. I fixed it. Sorry for the confusion! -- Bluecurls on 8/17/17
> 
> Updates will slow down after this posting, as I've reached the point where I need to figure out where this story is going. You know, besides smut.

Hermione spread the brownie mixture in the pan, scraping the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula to get most of batter, yet leaving enough for Remus, who tended to pout when he didn't get to lick the bowl. It didn't matter that he and Sirius weren't home; having left nearly an hour ago to pick up supplies for the barbecue Sirius informed them that they were hosting over coffee and pastries that morning.

_"What?!" Hermione dropped the rest of her cinnamon roll on the plate. "We're having a barbecue here? Tonight?" She looked around the kitchen in panic. It wasn't a total disaster, but it wasn't company-ready either. The floor needed to be swept and mopped, and she kept meaning to organize the cupboards, but never got around to it and sweet Merlin, the main bathroom needed to be cleaned and every room had to be aired, given what had gone on in them the past week._

_She was soon out of her seat and out of the kitchen, yelling something about red district brothels smelling better than the study. Sirius winked at Remus. "And that's why I don't say anything last night."_

_"You enjoy watching her have a meltdown?"_

_He smiled at that. Hermione had two speeds: go and keep going. He would never not be entertained by how easily she got worked up by the smallest of things, yet remained calm when faced with an actual crisis. "That too, but had I said anything last night, she would have had us on cleaning duty. Considering how relaxed you look this morning, Moony, I assume you agree."_

_Remus chose not to answer. Judging by the noises coming overhead, his plans for a lazy Sunday were no more._

A series of cleaning spells and charms took care of most of the housekeeping chores while a quick perusal of the pantry resulted in a shopping list Remus and Sirius volunteered to pick up while Hermione worked on desserts and side dishes. As she drained the red potatoes for the salad, it occurred to her that the trip to the market was taking the Marauders longer than she anticipated, but given their knack for getting in her way when she was cooking, she didn't consider their extended absence problematic.

* * *

 

"We need to get going, Padfoot."

"In a minute, Moony," Sirius muttered, closing his eyes as he tried to picture the hammock he was presently testing in their backyard. Hermione had not-so-subtlety mentioned for months that the two oak trees in the corner of their yard were the perfect spot for a hammock. Remus' plan was to buy her one for her birthday, but that was months away. Sirius believed in giving presents when they weren't expected.

Remus rolled his eyes and looked around the crowded store in search of someone who could sell them the hammock before Sirius was distracted by something else. They didn't need the oversized grill Sirius already had sent to the customer service desk, as magic would allow them to cook their food perfectly, but the downside of having a working television in their house were the commercials that captivated the Animagus. He fancied himself a grill master, not that he knew what that meant.

"We don't have a minute, Padfoot." The list Hermione gave him served as a not-so-gentle reminder that she was already stressed when they left. While he and Sirius weren't much help in the kitchen, Remus was sure there were other things she wanted done before Harry, Ron and Pansy arrived.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

Sirius opened his eyes to give the tiny blond in the red apron a charming smile. Leaping elegantly to his feet, he took her hand in his. "Candice," he smiled after a quick glance at the nametag pinned to her blue and white shirt, "you are exactly who we need."

Remus sat with a sigh in the loveseat of a wicker outdoor seating display while Sirius flirted with the salesclerk, wondering how they were going to shrink their purchases without catching anyone's eye.

"Oh and Candice, love, we need this, too." Sirius picked up a ceramic garden gnome.

"Sirius," Remus warned.

"It looks like Flitwick!" Sirius laughed. "How can we not buy it?"

Candice swiveled her head between the two men with a defeated look on her face. All of the good ones were either taken or gay. It wasn't fair. Still, their purchases would result on a hefty commission, so she kept the smile on her face as they moved toward the registers, the two men going back and forth about some teacher of theirs that apparently looked like a goblin. Remembering the hag she had for maths, she didn't find their conversation odd at all.

* * *

 

"Where have you been?" Hermione shouted, her tone similar to that of Molly Weasley's when she was frustrated with her family. Spinning on her heel, a large wooden spoon in her hand, Hermione shrieked when she saw it was Harry grinning at her.

"I would have come sooner, but then you'd put me to work." Harry laughed and pulled Hermione in for a quick hug, kissing the top of her head before she wiggled out of his grasp. Picking up the bag of Butterbeer he brought as his contribution, Harry made his way to the refrigerator, unsurprised by the vast number of covered dishes already on the shelves. "You do know the entire Order isn't coming to dinner?"

Hermione ignored him, her eye on the white wine she was in the process of drizzling over the cooled potatoes. She was aware that she made too much food, but she'd send everyone home with leftovers.

"So," Harry sat at the table, unsurprised when Hermione placed a bowl in front of him with instruction to stir, gently, until the potatoes were well coated. It didn’t matter how many cooling spells Molly had taught her over the years. Hermione insisted some things needed the Muggle touch. "It’s been forever since I've seen you. What's happening in your world?"

Hermione kept her back to Harry, happy he couldn't see her face. She was a terrible liar under the best of circumstances. "Oh, you know, work."

Harry rolled his eyes. She worked too hard; she always had. He'd hoped living with Sirius would get her to loosen up a bit, but apparently even he couldn't make her relax. "You know, I ran into Dean the other day. He and Katie broke up."

Hermione nodded, her tongue caught between her teeth as she filled a pastry bag with melted white chocolate to drizzle over the brownies.

Harry took her silence as permission to continue. "I told him you weren't seeing anyone and he said he'd owl."

"Who's owling who?" Ron walked into the kitchen. He carried a white ceramic dish in one hand. His other was clasped around Pansy's. Neither Hermione nor Harry noticed how Ron led his wife to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and making sure she was settled before placing their contribution on the counter. Opening the refrigerator, he took out the container of lemonade he knew would be in there and poured a glass for Pansy before giving Hermione a one-armed hug. She responded with a kiss in the air, making Pansy smirk.

"Yes, Harry, tell us your latest plans for Hermione's love life." The Slytherin sat back to enjoy the show.

"My what?" Hermione looked up, her focus finally on the people crowding her kitchen.

"Dean," Harry informed her. "He's single and he's going to owl you."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "Harry!"

"What?"

She looked at Pansy, panicked. The brunette simply sipped her drink, the best innocent look she could manage on her face. Ron was oblivious to the exchange, but Harry was not.

"What's going on?" Harry asked. He looked at Pansy first, then Hermione.

"Nothing," the pair said quickly.

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Sirius' shout from the study stopped them all. "Hermione, get your fine ass in here and –"

"Sirius!" Hermione ran out of the kitchen before he said anything he shouldn't. Rushing into the study, she threw herself at him, one hand going up to cover his mouth.

"What are you –"

"Harry's here early!" Hermione announced, her voice slightly hysterical. "And so are Ron and Pansy. Isn't that great?"

Sirius lightly nipped her palm, snickering when she jumped back, wiping the palm of her hand on her cutoff jeans with a murderous look in her eyes. "I take it my plans to ravish you on the kitchen table are out then?"

"Shh!" she hissed with a worried glance over her shoulder.

"Later?" he smirked.

"Sirius!" She flapped her hands as if she could make him stop with the frenzied movement. Remus watched the pair, expecting to be amused, but feeling annoyed instead. He knew he didn't have the right to be upset at Hermione's behavior – none of them had approached the topic of making their relationship public knowledge – but her obvious unease rankled him. He thought they got everything out in the open last night, but perhaps she wasn't as comfortable being with two men as she claimed. He reached out for her, needing something before stepping into the role the three were expected to play, when Harry walked in.

"Um, Hermione; you left Ron with the brownies."

"Dammit. Ronald!" She rushed out of the room.

"Harry," Sirius thrust a paper bag in his arms. "Make yourself useful and put that in the refrigerator, then meet us in the backyard for man work."

* * *

 

Hermione didn't know what was happening in the backyard and she didn't want to know. She had something bigger on her mind. She saw the look on Remus' face before Harry entered the study. He was upset and she knew it was in response to her reaction to Sirius' arrival. She didn't mean anything about it, she simply panicked. It was one thing for Pansy and Luna to know about her feelings for Remus and Sirius, but telling Harry and Ron required finesse. They tended to be overprotective and lash out when presented with information they weren't ready to hear.

"Almost ready?"

Hermione smiled at Remus. Ignoring the possibility of someone walking into the kitchen, she strode forward to kiss him, leaning into him when he moved to pull back. "Please don't," she whispered.

"Your friends –"

" _Our_ friends."

"Our friends," he amended, "are just outside."

Her smile was devious. "I know." Taking his hand in hers, she pulled him out of the kitchen and into the main bathroom, warding the door shut. "So I better hurry."

He opened his mouth to asked what she meant by that, but then she dropped to her knees, her eyes locked on his as she quickly undid the button of his trousers and slid the zipper down. "Hermione –" he moaned, unable to finish his thought as her lips wrapped around him. She had him hard in an instant.

She licked him slowly, wetting his skin to make it easier to slide his penis in and out of her mouth. She brought one hand up to grasp the base of his shaft while the other gripped his hip. She could taste the pre-cum dripping from his tip, and twirled her tongue to get all of it before sucking him deep into her mouth. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he fought against his instincts to fuck her mouth and let her set the pace, resting his head against the bathroom door on a loud groan.

"Shh," she whispered. "We forgot the silencing spell."

He opened his eyes, loving the smug look she gave him before going back to her task. His hold in her hair tightened and he growled deep in his throat as her head bobbed up and down. "So good," he whispered. "You are so fucking good at that. Suck me deep, Hermione. Take me deep and make me come!"

She pulled back slightly, letting him fall from her mouth with a soft pop. "And if I don't?” Her face was full of innocence as she looked up at him, loving the hard look he gave her as his eyes flashed in warning.

"If you don't finish what you started, little girl, I'm going to paddle your ass so hard, you won't be able to sit for a week without thinking of me," he threatened.

"I always think of you," she confessed. Another time, her words would have made him want to worship her but now, in this room, in this moment, where the chances of them getting caught increased every second, all he could do was use one hand to cup her jaw, forcing her mouth open, feeling the wolf inside him howl in triumph at the widening of her eyes, the scent of her arousal as she took him in her mouth once more. "Do it!" he hissed, his hips moving in time with her licks. He was rough with her, nearly brutal, and yet she responded, her mouth working him to a state of frenzy within seconds. He continued to fuck her mouth as his body prepared for release. "Look at me!"

She stared up at him. Her eyes were dark with arousal, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Fuck, he loved her. He loved her in a way no man had ever loved a woman before. The need to yell it aloud, to shout it so everyone who knew them would hear, was strong, so strong that he gritted his teeth to keep the words inside as he came inside her mouth, her suction tightening as she swallowed every drop. He slumped against the door, his legs trembling as she carefully cleaned him, her small pink tongue sliding around his shaft with teasing slowness before she tucked him back into his boxers, humming as she slid his pants back up to his hips.

When he was once again presentable, he slid to the floor and pulled her to him, whispering words of love and devotion as she curled into his embrace, both of them unaware of the two redheads who arrived moments before, Remus' words stopping them on their trek from the study to the backyard.

"I had no idea she could be submissive," Fred mused. "Did you?"

"Only in my dreams," George replied.

* * *

 

Hermione refused Remus' offer to help her get dressed, pushing him toward the backyard while she ran to her room to discard her cutoffs and T-shirt for a white cotton swing dress with navy blue stripes. She slid her feet into navy blue Chuck Taylors and pulled her messy curls into an equally-messy bun. Grabbing a jacket in case the weather turned cool, she rushed back downstairs, nearly running over Neville at the foot of the stairs.

"Oompf!"

"Some things never change," Neville laughed as he grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling. He remembered all the times Hermione would crash into him on her way to class, the library, or to save Harry and Ron from one mess or another.

"And others do," she replied, smiling at the gorgeous picture her once chubby friend made, loving that her appreciation of his toned body still made him blush. "Are you and Hannah joining us for dinner?"

"I am," Neville let Hermione pull him through the kitchen and out to the back porch. "Hannah tires easily these days."

Hermione glanced at Neville. "Are you sure you should leave your pregnant wife alone?"

The dark-haired wizard looked uncomfortable. "I was kind of threatened to leave before she did something to me that guaranteed this child would be our one and only."

Hermione giggled. She always liked Hannah. "How about I make a plate for you to take home to her? I also planted peppermint last month that should be ready for her anti-nausea potion."

"I love you, Hermione," he told her, not seeing two older wizards' eyes narrow at his proclamation. She did, though, and sent them a saucy wink before her gaze fell on the hammock in the corner of the yard.

"You got it!" Hermione dropped Neville's hand and jumping down the stone steps to run towards the braided canvas blowing gently in the wind between the two oak trees. Lowering herself into it carefully, she gave the hammock a small kick with her foot before lying back completely. "It's perfect!"

Sitting up, she held her arms out to Sirius, laughing as he fell into hammock with her, Remus' quick reflexes keeping the pair from toppling over the other side. Harry watched the scene with a thoughtful expression on his face while the twins kept Ron and Neville distracted. When Harry stood to approach his godfather and former professor, Pansy chose that moment to jump up and announce the news she and Ron had planned on saving until after dessert.

"I'm pregnant!"


	23. ANNOUNCEMENT

**ANNOUNCEMENT!**

This is not a chapter update and I apologize to anyone who got excited about the notification in their inbox. I've had my hopes dashed by notifications like this before, but I couldn't think of another way to publicize this information.

I'm no longer writing this story. The muse has run off and can't be found, but rather than leave **No Longer Playing** in unfinished story purgatory, the lovely **Worthfull1** will be taking over. If anyone accuses her of plagiarism on Tumblr, this is the official notice that _I_ reached out to _her_ to ask if she'd take ownership of the story.

Bless her heart for saying yes.

I've sent Worthfull1 everything I've written for this story with my complete support in whichever way she chooses to proceed. It now belongs to her. I'm leaving up what I have of my version so that people will know that I **100% support** whichever direction to choose to go. I, for one, am very excited to read what she comes up with. She's been an active member of this fandom for years and one of the first people I connected with back in the FF.net days. She won't be able to get to it until the new year, but what a great start to 2018, right?

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. I hope you will show Worthfull1 the same love and support. Hugs, kisses and Internet cookies to all of you!

Love,

Bluecurls


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